


A Very Swan-Mills Christmas

by Rihaan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Humor, Believe in Swan Queen (Once Upon a Time), Christmas Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, Dark One Emma Swan, Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Dark One Emma Swan, Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Romance, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard Bashing, Until it isn't, all in good fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28166484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rihaan/pseuds/Rihaan
Summary: Upon reflection, Emma probably should have informed her mother of her relationship status years ago. Well, at least her preference.“So, you approve of him, Regina?”She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, not bothering to hide her amusement in the miscommunication. “Why wouldn’t I? I’d approve of anyone Emma deems worthy, as long as they have two good hands and a strong sense of commitment.”Beside her, Emma snorted, covering it as a cough. Snow White didn’t pay it any mind, as she tried to get to the bottom of the mystery of her daughter’s new ‘husband’.Best Christmas Ever.Would the New Year fare any better?AU Pure SwanQueen
Relationships: Belle/Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Elsa/Lily | Lilith Page, Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard
Comments: 15
Kudos: 194





	1. Family

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patreon Ficlet #7: Family, Reimagined. A year in the making. Please enjoy!  
> A Special Thank You to my Patrons: Joseph P Hawley, Alexander S, and AtomicStryker. Eternal thanks for your support.

Regina had assured her that it would be an easy decision. On paper, it was _supposed_ to be an easy decision.

Well, of course it was going to be awkward; Emma didn’t delude herself on the possibility that it wouldn’t be.

Still, she was optimistic. It was her greatest flaw, according to her wife, way before they married.

Well, that, and her ability to see the good in people, an extension of said optimism. Or, more concerningly, her exceptionally high tolerance levels.

“So, how many guns _do_ you have?”

Emma grinned tightly, while Regina groaned from the open doorway. “Two. One in a safe at home, one in my locker at the station. Want the combination?”

“So, none on your person? How do you expect to protect my sister and her son?”

“Our son,” she corrected her, crossing her arms. “I protected them well enough from you, didn’t I?”

“Fair point,” Zelena conceded, swilling her champagne. “But don’t be so melodramatic, dear. You can’t use magic exclusively, especially outside of Storybrooke. Just because you’re the Dark One, doesn’t mean you should be as useless as your predecessor. You should have a backup plan. I’m only trying to help.”

“I’ll have you on speed dial,” Emma tried to compromise, shrugging. “How does that sound?”

Her new sister-in-law frowned minutely, clearly surprised at Emma’s suggestion. “Acceptable. Regina hasn’t given you my number?”

“She hasn’t given you mine?”

“I was sparing you,” their topic finally spoke up, resting her hand on Emma’s tense shoulder. “The international minutes would’ve been insane.”

“I wouldn’t have called that much. Is it terrible of me to want to check on my baby sister?” She pretended to look vulnerable, and Emma wanted to laugh at the attempt.

“In so few words? Impossible.”

She pouted. “I have forty years to make up for.”

“Trust me, _big sis_ ; according to the phone bill, you’re five years ahead.”

The formerly wicked woman could truly talk the ear off a gossip, but when your only company for decades is a herd of chattering monkeys, Emma could excuse it.

“Where’s Henry?” she asked the blonde, switching targets again. “I haven’t seen him since you came back from the honeymoon.”

Emma caught herself from groaning, eyeing the innocent look her sister-in-law adopted. It was almost as if she knew the answer already, and just wanted to hear it again, for her own amusement. “At his grandparents’. We need time to get the presents in order.”

Well, that part was a lie, and no one needed Emma’s power to know that. A simple _Higitus Figitus_ would march the presents from the attic, down the stairs, and under the tree in seconds – a spell that Regina had taught her four Christmases ago, and no matter what anyone said, she considered it their first _real_ date.

Henry was actually on a mission, to gauge the Blanchards, for their reaction to the news of Emma’s marital status, and to soften them up. He had nicknamed it _Operation: Swan Dive_.

 _‘Because you’re sending me on a suicide mission,’_ he explained, and instead of admonishing him, Regina snorted cutely, and continued dressing the pine tree with tinsel.

Spending Christmas with the Blanchards was going to be easier than Christmas with the Mills, in theory. At least, by Regina’s theory.

And yeah, maybe it was a mistake to not tell her parents that she and Regina were getting married in the first place.

Maybe it was a mistake to run to Argentina and get eloped, days before their planned date because she was afraid someone would blab to her former roommate and current birthmother.

Maybe it wasn’t nice to ignore her mother’s calls and texts during their honeymoon-slash ‘training retreat’, and while it was significantly easier for Regina to go along with it and block her number happily, they didn’t really have to essentially avoid Snow for the last two months.

Maybe she shouldn’t have sent the woman on a scavenger hunt, telling different friends and family different excuses and alibis so the nosy, but worried, former Queen would never get the full story, about their travels to different parts of the world, in the guise of magical training and self-discovery, but really, it was a honeymoon.

Magical training was had, sometimes, but it was mostly _physical_ training and mutual discovery, and Regina made a much more enthusiastic student than teacher, Emma found.

Emma herself discovered that she was a natural at both.

So maybe Snow White might get a little irked that her daughter would be coming home for Christmas, newly contracted family in tow, but it would have been much worse if she _had_ found out. Maybe.

And maybe, just _maybe_ , she probably should’ve told David and Snow that she had been dating Regina for the past five years. Probably could’ve avoided all this mess to begin with.

 _Maybe_. She wasn’t so sure about that.

Hell, _Cora_ knew before the Charmings could know. The Mills matron was more than put off that she wouldn’t be able to attend the wedding, for personal reasons that Emma completely understood.

 _“Are you still upset about that?” She pouted, much more convincingly than her redheaded daughter. “I’ve apologized more times than I can count_ _(Emma counted two)_ _. It’s really about time you cease with that silly little grudge already, dear.”_

_Regina’s eye twitched, and Emma noticed the telltale pulse of the vein in her forehead, like a fuse being lit. “Oh, **really**.”_

_“If I didn’t get rid of that pesky boy, you might’ve actually married him, lived a simple, mediocre life and you never would’ve set upon your convoluted revenge plot that introduced our dear Emma into your life.” She said it all as if it was obvious, while her other daughter nodded in agreement, swaddling little Robyn. “Really, it’s funny how life works out. And since I’m not allowed to come to the wedding, I suppose I can’t bring a gift, then, can I? The thanks I get for making this union possible. Unbelieva – you know, I should’ve been the damn officiant.”_

The fact that she knew that they were called ‘officiants’ made the blonde think that the elder Mills woman had looked it up, and had actually expected the call to marry them together. Still, if Emma could pin it down to a single moment, that was probably the one that inspired Regina to submit to her elopement plan. It was the best way to distract Emma from _finally_ killing her then-fiancée’s mother. In the Dark Savior’s humble opinion, she was delaying the inevitable, and she had to have known that, but perhaps she was saving the honor for her birthday.

Buenos Aires was lovely without any distractions, and they both promised to return one day with Henry, on an actual family vacation. Well, the only family that mattered. Her friends, bless them for wanting to go, didn’t have any passports, and she didn’t want to risk conjured documents against the might of TSA passport scanners and CBP dogs. Getting them to the wedding was enough a hassle.

Henry had a passport, but was adamant that he didn’t want to go, and while Regina had agreed that they would excuse him from school if he really did want to come with them, he volunteered to stay at Zelena’s during their absence.

“I’d love to be there for the wedding,” he explained, uneasily. “But where would I go for the honeymoon?”

Regina blushed, and stuttered, and Emma choked on her glazed turnover.

They presented the idea of Henry going with either his fairy godmother, Tinker Bell, or his actual godmothers, Belle and Lacey – or any of the few friends that actually had a passport. He still looked unsure, and a bit more prodding revealed that he had inherited Emma’s fear of heights, and had no intention of getting on a plane. Regina finally suggested magic teleportation, prompting a confused look from the Darkest Savior.

_“It might not work – we need to know where we’re going,” Regina explained, correctly guessing Emma’s question. “We’re still not positive our magic will work outside our town bubble reliably, and I don’t want either of us stuck half a world away, minutes before our wedding. Going by plane and figuring it out from there would be much easier for us, instead of teleporting Henry to some hotel room in Argentina.”_

_“I don’t need to know where I’m going to pop back and forth, though. And I’m pretty sure the hotel has mirrors. We could just sneak peek.”_

_The brunette bit her lip. “We still need the travel miles, Emma.”_

Even in her near-omniscience, she had no idea why the brunette was obsessed with her flying credits, but the subject was dropped, and Emma promised to have plenty of pictures taken, and videos, of the wedding, while she figured something out.

“Just don’t get them mixed up with the rest of the vacation photos,” Henry quipped, and Regina nearly collapsed with horror at the thought, a fear Emma was going to have to alleviate later in order to get _anything_ done. She gave her son a paralyzing look, that promised nothing but interruptions on any and all future dates with Violet. He harrumphed. “I’ll teach you how to make separate folders on the camera.”

Of the people they had told beforehand, Ruby was the most upset, as she was looking forward to the bachelorette party.

“I was so close to convincing Elsa to make, then jump out of, an ice cream cake for you,” she pouted. “I got her to perform for me – she’s better than you would think, she’s a real natural once you get past the, y’know, frigid exterior.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “And did you tell Belle about that little private party?”

The brunette smirked back. “ _Lacey_ was the one who taught her the moves.”

The Sheriff shook her head at her friend’s antics. “I feel like the party was more beneficial for you than for me. Regina wouldn’t have gone for any of that.”

Red shrugged, unconcerned. “Well, you’re the only one weird enough to bring your fiancée to your bachelorette party, and then _leave early_.”

“We had to get on a _plane_. Even Sheriffs and Mayors have to take off their shoes at checkpoints, too.”

“Too bad you couldn’t make it to the post-party orgy. Lily was there, too,” she added as an afterthought, and Emma laughed. “And Ingrid. I don’t know if I could ever get over the cold tongue, though.”

Her friend stopped laughing, and looked at Ruby again. “Wait – you’re serious.”

“Okay, so it wasn’t an _orgy_ ; just a lot of drinking, some dancing, a few hookups. Ariel and Tinker Bell were _freaks_ , they almost tried to start one in the middle of the floor. If you hadn’t moved the date up so abruptly _,_ we could’ve had more people. Mulan’s pretty pissed that she missed it. Oh! Mal gave me her number, in case you changed your mind about a more public ceremony. I thought you’d already have her number.”

She did. When she relayed the story to Regina, she scoffed loudly. “Mal is getting in that wolf’s skinny jeans, party or not. A not-so-subtle gesture at opening a dialogue - a literal calling card of hers. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gave everyone involved her number, the terrible flirt. She’s certainly tried with me enough times.”

“She did _what_?”

“Oh, sorry, dear. Not in this world. Back in the Enchanted Forest, when we were on relative speaking terms. _Before_ I enslaved her in my dungeon, _not_ an innuendo.”

“Oh.” She was silent for a moment. “And did you?”

Her newlywed partner snorted, tangling their fingers together as she drove the Mercedes-Benz down _Caselotti Way_. “Of course not. She was an annoying older sister, at most. An inspired punching bag I was never permitted to punch, at the very least.”

“You never saw me as an annoying younger sister?”

“Annoying? Absolutely, especially in the first month or two. A sister? Clearly not.” When she stopped at the stop sign, she glanced at her fondly, rubbing her thumb in the back of her hand. “Lucky for the both of us, I had the fortitude to do what Anna and Elsa couldn’t.”

Had Emma been driving, she would’ve crashed, the way she laughed. “ _Anna_ and _Elsa_? _Really_?!”

“Of course, darling, keep up. They’re clearly into each other. It’s not like they were raised _together_ , per se. I don’t think I need to remind you of our family tree, and the tangled limbs within.”

“Yeah, but they _always_ knew they were sisters. _Blood-related_.”

“I know,” Regina sighed. “An unfortunate hand they’ve been dealt, truly.”

Henry answered the door, and _Operation: Swan Dive_ was, in Emma’s eyes, an astounding success, in relation to the title.

In hindsight, they should’ve named it _Operation: Canary_ , as her son looked like he came out of a poisonous coal mine.

“They’re mad,” he whispered, and Emma gave Regina a look.

“The British mad, or…?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you say?”

“They know that Emma got married,” he told them casually, innocently enough, and Emma knew in that moment that he was more Regina’s kid than anyone realized.

“And you didn’t tell them – anything else?”

He shrugged. “And ruin the surprise? I’m not gonna be the Scrooge this year.”

“Merry Christmas to me,” Regina whispered, kissing him on the cheek. “And Birthday, and Anniversary. And next Christmas. Santa finally listened.”

“Is there a Santa in the Enchanted Forest?”

“Obviously not, or this would’ve happened a lot sooner.”

“Us getting married, or my parents collapsing of a broken heart?”

She seemed to consider for a few seconds, crossing the threshold into the spacious apartment. “Ask me after I see the look on their faces. I need to compare.”

“ _Emma!_ ” The former schoolteacher and current Mayor of Storybrooke came down the stairs from her room, smoothing down her ugliest of ugly Christmas sweaters – clearly not a gift of Granny’s, her own was quite cool-looking – and Emma at first assumed she had just left the mistletoe with David. Considering she closed the door behind her, and whisper-yelled, she was probably just putting down the baby. Which was unfortunate – Snow was usually a lot easier to deal with after she got laid, and more difficult after fussing with little Neal. “What the hell is Henry talking about? You got married? To who?!”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Mom,” Emma rolled her eyes, and she was beginning to see it from Regina’s point of view. “Let’s just pretend you’ve ever said it to me before, and pretend you have the right to demand _anything_ of me. So, where’s dad? I have an announcement to make.”

Snow, thoroughly chastised, snapped her mouth shut, her lips forming a thin line, before she turned away.

“The correct wording is ‘to whom’, by the way,” Regina quipped. “I wish you luck in the next election, dear. Because if you go back to school, it won’t be for teaching.” She chuckled at Snow’s childish response, before whispering to her wife, “I must’ve been a very good girl this year.”

Emma scoffed, tapping her jean-clad rear after making sure Henry followed his grandmother into the loft. “I have overwhelming video evidence that shows you haven’t.”

“I don’t see you arresting me.”

“Last time I tried that, we lost the key, and I had to learn the summoning spell on the spot.”

“Don’t remind me. Didn’t you have a spare?”

“Shattered, remember? Would’ve had to call dad for another set.”

“That would’ve been… awkward.”

“What would’ve been awkward?” Snow demanded, coming down the stairs with David, who looked none-too-pleased himself.

“Where is he?”

Emma shrugged, moving to lean against the counter and stare at the overstuffed meal before her, while Regina smiled demurely.

“He’s in the car, waiting for us to soften you up. Because he’s oh so afraid of a man named _Charming_.”

Emma giggled, while Snow narrowed her eyes. “I thought that was Henry’s job. So, you approve of him, Regina?”

She raised a perfectly coiffed eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I? I’d approve of anyone Emma deems worthy, as long as they have two good hands and a strong sense of commitment.”

Beside her, Emma snorted, covering it as a cough. She was sure even Killian would have laughed at that one, but Neal probably would’ve taken offense.

Mary Margaret didn’t pay it any mind, even more perplexed. “And now they’re both still living with you?”

“I guess I’m not in the room anymore,” Emma muttered to herself, while Regina responded with “I wouldn’t exactly be losing another room, would I? This isn’t the fifties, dear, I didn’t move in two twin beds and a lamp desk to put in between. I will always have a room in the Mills Home for family, and that includes the mother of my son, and her spouse. Just don’t tell that to Cora and Zelena.”

“And what about Henry? Does he have three parents now?”

The child in question, completely aware of the durability of his poker face, didn’t look away from his brand new Switch, while Regina continued to answer, completely unfazed. At least he had inherited one thing from the blonde. “That depends entirely on Henry. Today, of all days, a large family is advantageous, and we didn’t raise a fool. Tomorrow, however, may hold a different answer.” She grinned predatorily, a look that Snow was all too familiar with, and it hadn’t lost its luster after so many years. “Call me selfish, But I was never quite fond of sharing. I trust Emma, so I trust her judgement.”

“So, you don’t have a problem with Emma running off and getting married to this… this mystery man? Even after she didn’t invite you to the wedding?”

“Whoever told you that, dear? I knew of the relationship since the beginning. I was the maid of honor.”

Snow let out a betrayed gasp, covering her mouth, and Regina committed the look to memory, wishing she had brought her camera with her, but the files were still being transferred to their computer.

They used a _lot_ of memory cards.

“‘Gina,” Emma admonished, and her wife pouted. “Tell them the truth, please.”

“Fine. I wasn’t the Maid of Honor. Ruby was. But I was certainly there, and quite honored, nevertheless. How could she have gone behind my back to get married, when we were on vacation _together_?”

Not for the first time, she was embarrassed at how dense her stepdaughter was, as the implications flew right over her head. “So; who is he?” Snow demanded again, while David finally had enough, marching towards the door without pause.

“Oh, settle down,” Regina muttered, waving her hand airily, and the door made an audible _click_ sound as the lock was fixtured. She allowed David a few embarrassing seconds of stress testing the deadbolt, before she continued. “He’ll reveal himself when he’s ready. I’m sure he’s quite nervous, after all; Snow White is known for her torture methods.”

“We just want to talk to him,” Snow adamantly told her, _completely_ missing the brunette’s sarcasm. “We just want to see who captured our little girl’s heart… and _why_ she didn’t bother telling us!”

“Hey, yo!” Her daughter dog-whistled lowly, mindful of the baby in the other room, sparing a wave of her hand. “I’m still here. Hi. What’s up? How we doin’?”

She looked nonplussed, and unamused, and every negative feeling that Snow White refused to show anyone but _family_. “Why didn’t you tell us you got married – who you got married to? Or even the fact that you were dating anyone – Why did we have to miss our baby girl’s wedding? Was this some reckless, spur of the moment thing? Do you need to get it annulled? You have plenty of time to make mistakes, you’re still young…”

“ _Jesus_ , Snow, I’m six months older than you! And this is _exactly_ why I didn’t tell you, for the record. You refuse to accept that you’re too late, and I’ve grown up.”

“Are you sure you have? _Family_ doesn’t keep secrets from each other!”

Regina conjured a drink for herself as she hopped back onto the counter, subtly rubbing circles into her beloved’s back, while Emma took a calm breath. If Snow hadn’t seen the former Evil Queen do that thousands of times before, and Emma reciprocate the move just as often, she would have taken note. “Snow freakin’ White, don’t you _dare_ lecture me about secrets.”

“Oh, _this_ again? I thought we got past this! I was _eight!”_

Her brunette wife rolled her eyes, silently wondering when they ever got ‘past this’ – probably when the former queen decided that her daughter was worth more of her time – while the blonde pursed her lips. “Not what I was even talking about, but _thanks_ for bringing that up, too. If I’d brought Lily with me, could you even look me in the eye and tell me that we don’t keep secrets from family? That you’re old enough to understand the weight of your actions with _family_?”

She gasped. “You married Lily?”

Emma buried her head in her hands.

Regina said nothing, sipping her apple cider delicately, never quite removing the mug from her lips. Emma supposed it was to hide her chuckle. “No, Mary Margaret, I did not marry Lily. She’s been more of a sister to me than you’ve ever been a mother.”

She let out a wholly affronted gasp, and Regina made a note to get Marco to craft her a… what did Henry call it? A pensieve? She didn’t know how it would work, but if she and the Enchanted Forest could exist, then Hogwarts might exist somewhere else, right?

That speculation stirred in her mind for longer than she would admit, while mother and daughter continued to argue.

“I told you I was sorry, Emma, but that was _not_ my fault. Look at the self-control you’ve managed, even as the Dark One! Everything I’ve done, I did for your safety!”

“My safety? Or your kingdom?”

“Both! _Your_ kingdom!”

“Oh great, what I’ve always wanted. Maybe if you talked to me, you would know that I _so_ don’t fucking care about your medieval backwoods forest colony.”

Luckily, Regina was only half-listening, her eyes intently focused on Snow White’s vast expressions of despair. She didn’t want to summon a tin of caramel corn, in respect to her wife. Maybe she could summon it in her pocket…

“You should, Emma! It’s where you came from! Where you could’ve been raised in!” When her daughter pursed her lips, glaring with legitimate agitation, she felt an even further need to defend herself. Naturally, she only succeeded in increasing Emma’s ire. “We all know _why_ I didn’t get the chance to raise you there. Why I’ll never get the chance to raise Neal in our kingdom. If you can’t accept that much, then _congratulations_ , Regina. You’ve turned my daughter against me.”

“Frankly, Snow, your daughter turned _me_.” Strictly speaking, that was true, despite Mal’s best efforts. She took another sip. “But I understand your point. Hopefully her spouse can get her to see reason, and try to get her back on your side. I’ve been told – mainly by you – that I’m a bad influence, and I’ve taken that criticism to heart.”

Snow White sniffed in disdain. “Stop trying to guilt me. You’re worse than your mother, and she _killed_ mine.”

“And you nearly killed mine. From a third-party perspective, I’d say we’re about even by now.”

“Stop tallying your evil acts! She is _not_ a _stranger_ , Regina, not a casualty of war! She is family. _My_ family. _My daughter_. I will not have you destroy her, too!”

She leaned back, setting the mug down, licking her grinning lips. “And if I honestly did, Snow White; if I had the smallest inkling of _trying_. _What_ would you do about it? She’s right here, in front of you. I convinced her to be here tonight. We would have _happily_ avoided you for longer.” She silently counted to five, reveling in the uneasy look of her long-time rival, and looked over to her best friend. “Darling, did you need a synopsis? I was once an Evil Queen, and after trying to kill you, I befriended you for four years, traded each other’s lives for one another, taught you the art of the most powerful of magics, allowed you to live in my home to the point where your mail is redirected to Mifflin Street, allowed you unfiltered access to raise our son, watched from the best seat in the house as you vowed your happy ending, and now, I think I’m finally ready to kill you again. Shall we duel on New Year’s Day, or do you concede to my longform, Rumple-esque strategy?”

Her wife gave her a pat on the leg, still staring directly at her mother. “Well? Would you do anything about it? I can’t argue with the plan, I’m ready to give up. Even if she told me her lasagna was poisoned, I’d lick the glass clean in my death-sleep.”

Regina scoffed. “You love my lasagna so much, you wouldn’t even need Henry to wake you up.”

“I make pretty good lasagna,” Mary Margaret grumbled, before straightening up. “Fine. If you didn’t want to be here, you only had to say so. If you didn’t want me at your wedding, in your life, you don’t even want to tell me who your damn _partner_ is, then why should I try? You keep stressing how I didn’t raise you, standing next to the woman that took you from me; practically ripped you out of my arms! Twenty-eight years, and five more since. How long are you going to punish me? How long will you hold _this_ over me?”

“I’m not holding anything over you, Snow White. I don’t resent you for letting me go, not anymore. Not when I have so much more to resent you for.” She made a different grimace, fingers fidgeting on her beloved’s knee, before they slammed at her sides. “Because you decided that when you saw your little girl suffering, alone in a foster home, _alone_ and _afraid_ , you decided that she wasn’t your daughter anymore. She was the _Savior.”_ Before Snow could object to her words, she snapped her fingers, and Snow fell back into David, who was just as dizzy as his wife, but had the wherewithal to keep his balance. “You didn’t remember that day, but you made your choice with a full conscience. Now you get to _live with it_.”

Regina blinked at the sight of the reeling couple. “Darling?”

“They woke up once, during your curse – the first one. They even talked to Rumple – that’s how _I_ know. They saw lil’ ol’ me through a portal, sitting in a foster bed alone at three in the afternoon, and they chose to keep me there, go back to their cursed lives, and forget the whole thing happened. So I could be the _Hero_ at the end of _your_ story.”

She remembered that moment, too. Preemptively glancing at her son, she was pleased to see the expensive headphones working rather well, snugly around his ears as he played _Splatoon_ , absent from the world. It was a purchase she just knew would be used against her later, but for the moment, she was grateful for it. Her expression hardened as she turned her focus on her stepchildren turned parents-in-laws. “You… you just got back into the hospital bed and acted like nothing was wrong.” She eyed the Deputy like he was the scum of the earth – with more vitriol than usual. “You both woke up from my curse, and willingly put yourselves back in, because you wanted… your hero? Your _kingdom_ back?” She slammed the mug back down on the counter to emphasize her words, and in the other room, Neal wailed loudly. “What in the _hell_ is wrong with you!?”

David glared at Regina, even as Snow stumbled to check on her child. “In case you forgot, that was all _your_ fault.” Even he didn’t look like he believed it, and though he wasn’t afraid to face off against the former Evil Queen, his fidgeting hands at his side told Emma that he wished he wasn’t so helpless, in this moment – unarmed, his wife gone, his resentful daughter standing against him….

Perhaps he was finally learning that he held no relevance to this dispute. He had been fighting his wife’s battles for too long.

Regina didn’t see it that way. She hopped off the counter, her boots striking the floor with authority. “ _My_ fault? I told you to get rid of your daughter? I made you decide that her destiny was more important than her happiness, than a stable home? I didn’t make her an orphan, Charming, despite my _worst_ efforts. _You_ did.”

He set his jaw, and continued glaring when Snow returned, baby in tow. Emma shook her head. “I need to get out of here. Merry Freaking Christmas.”

Snow stalked forward, bouncing Neal in her arms. “Emma, don’t. Don’t do this to me. Yell at me, scream at me, I’ll apologize all day. I’m truly sorry for what we did, but that doesn’t change what we did, and it never will. That’s why we’re here today, as a _family_. If I had grabbed you through the portal and brought you into the curse, what then? You’d be a teenager, with no memory of us by the next day, and we wouldn’t know who you are. Henry wouldn’t even _exist_ , your father would be in a _coma_ , and I would be… here. Alone, and childless. Our family wouldn’t _exist_ because of my ‘mistakes’.” There was no waver in her tone, no fidget in her amber eyes, staring at her with her motherly frown. She certainly believed her words.

Unfortunately, she passed her stubborn attitude down, and despite everything said back and forth, she was truly her daughter in that moment.

Emma’s eyes flashed a deadly onyx color, while her cornflower hair suddenly gleamed pure white. Her hands weren’t aflame, but it still gave Mary Margaret pause, flinching back from what she thought was a long-dead appearance. “You could have come to me, _dumbass_. Since you have this never-ending optimism about family sticking together, you could’ve _come to me_ , and we could’ve figured it all out, as a _fucking family_. But you couldn’t abandon your people, couldn’t even entertain the thought. You couldn’t let _her_ win _once_ , could you? You made a promise that she wouldn’t win, and goddammit, you _stick_ to your guns.”

The air was tense, suffocating, and Snow White imagined that if they had a gas heater, the entire loft would have gone up in a fireball. “You didn’t even _say her name_ just now, like she isn’t even involved in _this_. And Henry? Regina still would have wanted a child, she still would have adopted, and she woulda loved the shit out of that kid named Henry. Maybe even – !”

She paused, and suddenly laughed a very bitter laugh, and it sent shivers through the spines of everyone in the room. Neal giggled. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be some Rumple’d shit to pull? Maybe she would’ve adopted _me_? But we’d still be frozen in time, wouldn’t we? Doesn’t matter if it’s five years ago, or twenty years from now. I’d still somehow make my way here, ready to break a curse. No matter how long it takes, it was always my destiny to ruin her life, wasn’t it? That’s how fate works. That’s how _prophesies_ work. The Charming family motto; what was it? ‘I will always find you’, right? I’ll always find _you_ , Someone will always find _me_ , I’ll always find some incredible mystical bullshit, a plot device of the week to make my day easier, a way to make her life hell, like you’ve done before me? We don’t do much together, but is that the family tradition that we _must_ aspire to? _Four fucking generations and counting?!”_

Regina gave her a forlorn look, raising her hand to her blond partner’s shoulder, unconcerned with the static air. “After all this time, you still blame yourself.”

“I _took away_ your happy ending. When the curse ended, the rest of the bullshit began.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Sorry.”

“That _bullshit_ was our _lives_ , Emma. And the beginning of our happy ending. I’m certain that was in my vows.”

She briefly chuckled. “I thought you were being sarcastic. You’d think that being the Dark One would have made me immune to curse-breaking kisses. Almost as useless as Christmas miracles.”

“You would think that the Evil Queen could’ve taught you that lesson before you ever had the chance to wonder. But alas, lately, I’ve had a change of heart…”

Throughout the exchange, Snow White blinked slowly at her blonde-again daughter, then at her brunette step-mother. Her eyes roved over their body language, their closeness, and the _fondness_ in their eyes as they locked onto each other with dawning, terrifying recognition.

She… she didn’t think she was too blind. She’d seen this exchange, this companionship, for a number of years, at this point. Snow ignored it, or refused to think too hard about it, knowing that her daughter was merely trying her best to maintain the alliance between Regina and _Snow White_ , knowing their history and the witch’s sensitivities were so volatile, and her brave daughter was going beyond the call of duty to make sure she didn’t turn to the darkness again. Emma would have made a great ambassador, she knew. She fought _so hard_ to have Regina released from jail after the curse broke, spent so much time with her when she was on house arrest, and literally travelled to the ends of the realms to _find her_ …

A sharp intake of breath on her part broke the spell, and Emma broke away and frowned at her, like she was interrupting a moment that shouldn’t have been interrupted. A moment that nearly radiated something special, a supposedly married woman _lusting_ after –

Regina innocently moved to Emma’s other side to gesture towards the door, unlocking it, and while her husband’s eyes naturally followed, eagerly awaiting the guest that she wasn’t entirely sure was a figment of her and David’s imagination, she was more entranced by the white mug left behind on the counter, and the cursive purple scrawl on the front:

_If this mug isn’t empty, please annoy my wife instead._

Emma paid it no mind, taking her best friend’s hand and making their way towards the door. “In case you don’t see me, Happy New Year. Come on, Henry.”

_“…Regina?! **Y-you… Regina MILLS**?!”_

Her husband winced at the screech that echoed through the lot. Henry had just removed his headphones upon hearing his name, and nearly fell out of his chair at the sound of his mother’s. Unexpectedly, baby Neal giggled again.

The brunette in question paused instep while Emma gave her little brother a reserved, guilty grin.

“Regina Mills- _Swan_ , actually. At the risk of sounding redundant, I’ll leave the turnovers on the counter. Come to Mifflin Street on New Year’s, or when you’re ready to talk. Less… acoustics.”

“I…” she deflated, recklessly plopping on the chair behind her, while David had a hopeless look that really made Emma pity him. It wasn’t his fault; he was just following his passionate wife throughout his whole life. It’s just what people in love do, and she commiserated. “I… I’m trying to understand this, I just… I probably should have figured.” She looked on the verge of crying, even as her baby cooed, reaching up to pull at her sweater collar. “Congratulations, Emma. Congratulations, Regina. Can we please talk about this?”

“No.”

Snow trembled in her chair, more than little Neal in her arms, and she bit her lip. “Emma, please….”

“No more talking. You’ve done enough talking. Next time we meet, I’ll speak, and you’ll listen. _Both_ of you. You can see me as your daughter, the Savior, the Dark One; it doesn’t matter. I want some stone-cold revelations out of you for the next year, or you won’t _have_ a daughter. My legal, non-Enchanted name is Emma Swan-Mills. Accept it, and we can start getting along. Don’t, and I’m out of here, and we leave Storybrooke behind, because clearly, we’ve outgrown this town, and I was really enjoying travelling the world.”

Snow gasped, tears in her eyes, while David, sitting beside her, tiredly shook his head, clearing his throat. “Of course we’ll accept it. We’ll accept any decision you make. I don’t care who you marry, I didn’t raise you. Live your own life. I’m just asking to be a part of it.”

She nodded, her face showing no emotion, and turned away with Regina. “My wife’s invitation still stands. Next week, you can come over, and we’ll talk. Right now, I just want to spend some time with my family.”

With Henry behind them, Emma and Regina Swan-Mills left the apartment, and before Emma could grab the car door handle, Regina pressed her back against the Mercedes, and gave her a searing kiss.

“I skip the honeymoon, and now I get a live presentation,” Henry pouted from behind as he stood beside the locked car, and Emma took pity on him, absently flicking her fingers and swirling him away, her eyes still closed.

Regina backed away, frowning. “You didn’t have to send him home. He would’ve liked to hear this.”

Emma grinned ferociously, leaning in to press her lips against her neck. “I don’t think so, unless you want to make Archie a rich man. _Again.”_

Her wife moaned, ignoring the tease about her past, in favor of the news she couldn’t hold back anymore, regarding their future. “I suppose this is more a gift for _us_ ,” she managed to whine out, before holding Emma by her earlobes, gently pulling back. Her wedded lover, the almighty Dark Savior, playfully whimpered at the loss, but her curious green eyes searched hers, patiently waiting for her next words. “But should we wait until tomorrow to tell him about his new little brother or sister?”

“His… his – ?” Pulling back abruptly, The Dark Savior’s eyes roamed over her again, with omniscient eyes, and tears began to leak before she could even process the image of the tiny being resting within her. It was barely the size of a prune, but without a doubt, it was there. “You’re p-pregnant,” she whispered softly, before _rightfully_ panicking. She herself nearly had a heart attack when she found out, and not for the most obvious reasons. “ _How?_ You told me you couldn’t – ”

“I couldn’t. Not until you.” She pressed her lips to her beloved’s once more, before pulling back. “I’d be more worried as to how you could’ve given me a child to begin with, considering we had _none_ of the necessary ingredients for the recipe, but I suppose both leads to the same answer.”

Emma snorted through her tears. Just when she thought she might have been able to get through the night without crying. “True Love’s kiss? Again?”

“Do you have any other guesses?”

“I’m a cocktail of the darkest of magics _ever_ , and the light magic of a savior in a prophesy foretold hundreds of years ago. You’re the most naturally gifted witch I’ve ever had the pleasure to butt heads with, and the other half of said prophesy. But if you think that has nothing to do with it, then maybe it’s a Christmas Miracle?”

“ _Idiot_ ,” she whispered, her voice thick, fingers stroking back her blonde hair. “I did the math; it must’ve been sometime during the honeymoon – as early as our wedding night.”

“So it’s closer to a Thanksgiving Miracle? Or a Halloween miracle, maybe?”

She hummed, still toying with her silky strands, framing this moment in her life - her own nervousness, her wife's awkward jokes to hide her own, Snow White looking down at them through her window - _all of it_. “I do hope they have your hair. Or at least your eyes. Not even the Dark One’s essence could challenge the light in these green eyes.”

“Says the genetically perfect sixty-year old.” She was silent for a moment, wrapping her arms around her beloved’s waist. “I can see the future, you know. It’s tempting to do it.”

“You know, I truly don’t mind if you do. It would be very helpful. Honestly, I’m tired of surprises. We’ve had enough of those.”

“Like I said; it’s tempting, not gonna lie. But I won’t. I’m not making the same mistakes my parents made. Fate, the future, destiny, whatever. I’m looking at you, our baby, Henry. You’re my future. And that’s as far as I want to see.”

Regina’s eyes weren’t dry before, and they certainly weren’t now. Blinking the moisture away, she hid her face in her partner’s neck. “Does your omniscience give you all the right words to make me fall for you every day?”

“Hmm… no. You want the truth? I think that’s from my mother’s side. She used to kill at those little speeches of hers. She’s gonna fight like hell to get us to name them _Hope_.”

She made a disgusted sound. “I think I’m getting morning sickness.”

Her wife chuckled, happy tears ruining her normal vision to mingle with her best friend’s, pulling her closer. “I knew you were going to say that. Merry Christmas, Missus Swan.”

“And you as well, Missus Mills.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has been worked over, on and off, since February 2020. Quite proud of it.
> 
> So when I announced that I was leaving for a while, I still had every intention of putting this out, because I invested far too much into it to put this on the shelf any longer. Like, a literal investment. You'll see the results of that later.
> 
> (This is a solid one-shot, and originally intended as a one-shot, but I figured I should have them yell at Snow White some more, from Regina's side of things.)
> 
> Please, leave a review, and I'll thank you in the next chapter! Happy Holidays, and #Fuck2020!


	2. Love Locked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Years Day with the Swan-Millses proves to be just as harrowing a journey for the Charmings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Special Thank you to those who reviewed the first chapter of my story: baratta.jennifer, ahta, JaneQDoe, Sammii16, R, justallie, Ronder Day, Sunako52, and SamanthaGay. So many thanks!  
> And a very special thank you to my Patrons: Joseph P Hawley, Alexander S, and AtomicStryker.  
> Happy New Year!

Regina Swan-Mills answered the door, a bright smile on her makeup-free, flawless face and a fluffy purple robe wrapped tightly around her. She leaned against the doorframe, her free hand waving outwards in a grand gesture. “Welcome to the Mills-Swan abode, and Happy New Year!”

Snow White pouted, even as she cradled her child. “You don’t have to be so cheery about it.”

She raised a delicate eyebrow, moving aside to let them in from the cold. “And why wouldn’t I, Mary Margaret? It’s the end of the holidays, I’m celebrating with my family, and – well, I don’t want to spoil the surprise.” She grinned a Cheshire grin. “Let’s just say that True Love is in us all - but mostly _me_.”

“And it’s not some trick?” she demanded, not fully convinced. “You and Emma – it’s real?”

She might not have been there for Emma before, and she might not have known everything - well, _anything_ \- that was going on in her own daughter’s life, but if there was even the slightest chance that Regina was doing this for an ulterior motive, in some convoluted long game that her former master was known for, then _she would do her **damnedest** to_ \- 

“Are you seriously interrogating my wife in her own home?”

She could’ve sworn she saw her own breath for a second. Her eyes roving to the top of the stairs, she found what claimed to be her daughter, Emma Swan-Mills, stepping down in a very imperious way, despite wearing a simple purple t-shirt and black jeans. “I just want to make sure there wasn’t anything... _sinister_ , about this arrangement. I’m worried for you.”

“Then ask the _both_ of us. You’re gonna treat her like a criminal, fine, but we’re an out and about team, now. You should understand how that works.” Her eyes stayed on Mary Margaret. “So, where’s _your_ other half?”

“He’s at the station. Emma, why – ?”

She swiftly held up a hand, and her eyes finally left Snow, flickering back and forth around the room. “Hold on. Let’s talk in the kitchen, shall we? Sorry-not-sorry, we had to start without you because you were late, and Henry wanted to spend some time with his friends. Ham and black-eyed peas, courtesy of my lovely wife. The spiced pears and pomegranate’s in the fridge, in case you guys are hungry for dessert.”

“Sorry my _baby_ inconvenienced you,” Snow grumbled, and was still processing Emma’s words and accusations, before she saw the table, and who was already sitting down. “ _David_?!”

He blinked as he sat there lackadaisically, still in his uniform, shining badge pinned to his beige dress shirt. He looked at his wife helplessly. “I – I have no idea how I got here.”

“I don’t like to repeat myself. If you had raised me, you’d know that. So, I figured the both of you should be here so we can... settle things.”

“Is this all you’re going to do to us, Emma? Just... flaunting your magic to torture us?”

“No, Snow. My wife tried that, for _years_ , but you are far too stubborn to get the message.” Emma took a seat at the circular table, her back against the counter, and seeing as there were only three seats, Regina moved gracefully to plant her butt in the blonde’s lap.

Snow’s eyes strayed awkwardly, even as she took the last available seat next to David at the small kitchen table. “So... what now? You list all of the mistakes I made, and you make your mother cry and apologize all day?”

Emma seemed to ponder the sarcastic statement. “More or less, actually. Though I appreciate that you acknowledge that there is, of course, a list.”

“I wasn’t...” Snow started, only to deflate before everyone's eyes. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”

“Well, what do _you_ think the first mistake was?”

“Giving birth, apparently.”

Emma looked ready to frown at her sarcasm, before she teetered on an inquisitive expression. “Actually – _yeah_. Two for two.”

“ _Ohmygod_ ,” Snow gasped, looking ready to pass her kid over to her husband and suction onto her daughter. “Emma, you – !”

“Relax, Mary Margaret. I’m not a teen anymore. There were plenty of times I’d wish I was never born. Those days are over, and they have been for a very long time.” She deliberately brought her arms forward, loosely hugging her fluffy robed wife, leaning back into the chair. The brunette in return gazed at the top of her cornflower hair with warm eyes and a glowing smile, and Snow White began to have a distinct understanding of how those thoughts went away for good. “I’m curious about the timing, though. Stuck in a timeless battle with the Evil Queen, who would use every advantage and take every option to ensure your happy ending... ends.”

“Don’t get us wrong,” Regina quickly intervened, giving Emma a pout before focusing on her mother-in-law. “My wife isn’t trying to say that the smart options would have been to kill me first, avoid pregnancy to begin with, or run away with your child. If you had any sense at all, I’d have never found happiness again. Parroting your words last week, your choices worked out very well for all of us – even for you. If you had abandoned your kingdom, you couldn’t be the Mayor now, that’s for sure. They never would’ve let you run a lemonade stand here, much less this town.”

“I just don’t understand why you would choose to have a kid in the middle of a war, is all. Just seems short-sighted, I guess. But,” she clicked her tongue, giving her mother an accusing eye, “if we’re going chronologically, your first mistake was believing in Rumplestiltskin. If you knew anything about prophesies and Saviors, you’d know I was destined to win in the end no matter what. I’d end the curse, and good would conquer _blah blah blah_.” She rolled her eyes. “Something your so-called Fairy Godmother should’ve told you about.”

“We really should pay her a visit,” Regina noted, conjuring a very familiar mug, sending a wink Snow’s way. She sipped at her cider. “Maybe tell her the good news. How many times do you think we’ll hear the phrase ‘Unholy Union’?”

“Well?” Emma asked her mother with a raised eyebrow. “Did you tell her?”

“I haven’t left the house since... Christmas,” Snow admitted. “I haven’t called anyone, I haven’t told anyone.” She adjusted Neal in her arms, looking lost. “...How did this happen? You two? Together? It can’t be recent.”

Emma’s eyebrow went up further. “Do you understand the concept of _‘I talk, you listen?’_ No questions.”

“But it’s been so long since we were asked that question, darling,” Regina simpered, patting her wife’s encircled hands. “You know how much I love telling this story; I don’t get to do it often.”

Emma chuckled, kissing the nape of her neck, and Snow resisted the urge to roll her eyes. A part of her also set shame upon herself for not seeing any of the more subtle signs as a more than friendly gesture. “Go ahead, Baby.”

Without preamble, she began. “After the curse, she came to me here, in that foyer. She was angry, with tears in her eyes, and a sword in her hand, covered in fresh dragon’s blood. She kicked down my door, and naturally, I threw a fireball at her. She smacked it away, telling me to come with her.” Snow half-expected her to scowl at that moment - Any crack or dent in the façade of her happiness, but as she sunk further into the story, her voice became more animated, reminding Snow of when she told her bed time stories in a long-gone past. “Henry was waiting in the car. She was going to drive me out of town to protect me. _Me_. Like I needed protection.”

“Of course you didn’t, dear,” Emma pandered, and Regina hummed out the equivalent of a shrug. “Your magic was malfunctioning, and the whole town was coming after you. You would’ve been beheaded or in jail.”

“I’m not on trial, here,” she whined, tapping her wife’s tangled fingers pressed against her still-flat stomach. “I’m not under oath, either.”

“You wouldn’t have had a trial, either. We had to get the hell out of town.”

“I know; simply befuddling,” she muttered, correctly translating the look of confusion and shock on Mary Margaret’s face. “Minutes after the curse was broken, why the hell was she protecting _me_ , after all I’d done? Why was she looking to get out of town, abandon the family she'd been looking for all her life, for _me_? Your guess is as good as mine was. I poisoned our son, trying to kill his mother, everyone’s ‘Savior’. I don’t think he ever hated me more than that moment. The moment she woke him and ended my curse, her literal first thought was to come after me. That, I understood. It was expected.”

“When have you ever seen me do what was expected of me?”

“Never,” she whispered, a silly smile flashing for a moment, before she softened into a tepid grin. “My blonde angel was trying to save my life. That’s what I told her, more or less.”

* * *

_“You... you crazy bitch, you’re trying to save my life? What the hell is wrong with you?!”_

_“When I figure that out, you'll be the second to know, but we need to get the hell out of dodge right now!”_

_“This... it’s some kind of trap! Where’s my son!?”_

_“In the car. Awake and healthy. Incredibly pissed, and he’s not the only one. I want answers, Your Fucking Majesty, not your head. Not yet. But if you stay here, they won’t be as interested in asking questions.”_

_The Former Queen eyed the sword with trepidation, and Emma rolled her eyes, as if the sight of her kicking down a door and brandishing a dragon’s blood-smeared medieval weapon wouldn’t have made anyone else pause in either fear, or... something else. Wordlessly, she tossed the sword to the ground, and with a hands-up gesture, she turned around and marched out the front door to her (miraculously running) car._

_She was sure she heard the sword being picked up, and she saw Emma tense, but she paid it no mind, marching right past her with long strides to the hideous yellow bug, sword in her grip._

_After only the slightest hesitation, Regina chose to scoot tentatively in the backseat with Henry, and the glare set upon her stunned her more than any spell she could ever cast._

_“I wanted to leave you here,” he started quickly, and her own anger, and confusion, towards Miss Swan dispersed, replaced with a grief that rivaled losing the other Henry in her life. “I wanted to pick up my grandparents and go to Boston. She wanted to pick you up.”_

_“Henry... I – ”_

_“You almost killed me. And you tried to kill her.” She could tell he was trying not to scream, practically shaking in front of her, his arms crossed, his lips in a snarl._

_He turned away when Emma opened the door, and without even strapping on her seatbelt, she floored it._

_“No one speak until we get to the town limit,” Emma spoke hoarsely, and Regina had no problem with that. It must’ve been something she told Henry before she got out. So, he had that speech prepared before Emma could get back in the car._

_A pain gripped her heart, a pain she had rarely felt in her life._

_When a shadow was cast over the vehicle however, and the cold grip on her worsened, she began to moan in agony. Emma pulled over, gun drawn, and Regina weakly grabbed the sword, using it as a cane to pull herself out._

* * *

“When Rumplestiltskin set a wraith on me, your daughter _stupidly_ jumped in front of me to save my life. She didn’t even know she had magic at the time; she was just a crazy woman with an empty revolver and a useless sword. Keep in mind, she had a tough time believing in magic, and she just killed Maleficent in her dragon form earlier that day. She had been through so much in so little time, and literally all of it was my fault.” She cleared her throat, her eyes straying from Mary Margaret’s face, and... dammit, if she was acting, then she deserved _everything_ she ever wanted, just for the work she put into this act. “Even then, I knew the wraith was meant for me. Emma’s memories of the Dark Ones confirmed it, but only one person was capable of summoning a wraith to Storybrooke immediately after magic returned. Of _course_ , as you two come too late to do anything useful, it was just us there. It kept attacking me, and my magic was so unpredictable. You can’t kill a wraith, but fire can protect you from it, for a brief time.”

“It kept attacking you,” Emma repeated, her grim tone bringing an almost physical weight on Snow’s shoulders. “You know me; I’m not a fan of being ignored.”

Her wife smirked. “So you hogged my spotlight.”

“Everyone needs a hug, and you were overdue. It was around that time that I figured I was sorta-kinda in love with you.”

“After I tried to kill you, and almost killed our son.”

“My heart made a truce before my brain did. Trust me, didn’t help that you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and despite the black heart, and our sassy rivalry - ”

“We _punched_ each other - ”

“And Lily could promise you that I held back,” she blinked innocently, the loaded statement telling Regina _everything_ she needed to know about Emma growing up, and how antagonistic their rivalry truly was - or wasn’t. “No offense, but dealing with someone like you, with my past? I could’ve just kidnapped him. If I believed Henry at all, there wouldn’t have been any fighting. Anyway,” she nearly sung, focusing back on the story instead of debating whether she could successfully beat up her newlywed ( _She totally could have_ , Lily would later confirm), “I get the whole confusion on me trying to save your life. You’ve never really had anyone actually, like, defend you. So I get it. Now what I _didn’t_ get, was why you pushed me away.”

“Daniel lost his heart for me,” she explained slowly, not entirely comfortable with expressing her emotions in front of her long-time rival. Just the thought of it always gave her a reminder, of the little girl who stumbled and fell into her life, and she let her guard down. “I couldn’t allow you to lose your soul.”

Emma chuckled darkly. “And there I was, thinking that I held you too tight, or you would rather be dead than to have me save you. Still, you blasted me off you and opened yourself up to it.” She shook her head. “And then it was back to love-hate in that moment. Mostly hate, because you were planning to sacrifice yourself. But the love came back when I found out that once that thing got your soul, it would have fucked off. You were still trying to save us.”

“I figured I was good as dead anyway. The town wanted me dead, Rumple would’ve stopped at nothing, I was partially convinced you were taking me to the side of the road to take me out execution-style until you embraced me, and... and Henry hated me. I lost my son.” She frowned. “I had nothing. Nothing but your faith in me. And in that moment, I’m ashamed to say that it wasn’t enough.”

“So... what happened?” Snow asked in a whisper, though she didn’t mean it to be. It had just been so long since she spoke, and she didn’t mind, she was so _transfixed_.

She nearly jumped when her husband, beside her, leaned forward, waiting for their answer. She had _honestly_ forgotten he was there.

“Henry,” the former Evil Queen explained, easily. “He hopped out the car, and started running towards me." She raised her eyes, focusing on the couple in front of her again. “You’ve baselessly questioned my parenting for a very long time, and I’ve accepted that - Henry knows how well I’ve raised him, how I’ve spoiled him, and how I’ve expected courtesy and respect in return, as my little prince. I made a promise to be better than my mother, and I kept to that. The first ten years were not perfect, but make no mistake - _I love him_ \- with all my black, cold heart. And until he found the book that _you_ gave him, I never would have questioned that love.”

She sniffed, almost imperceptibly, and huffed through her lips - Snow couldn’t even muster the indignance to be angry at her for guilting her, _again_. Now it was her who looked away, her eyes falling to the table, at the half-eaten glazed ham. Adjacent to the cinnamon-scented candles placed impeccably around it, like a sacrificial offering (and technically, it was), made it look, and smell, so _scrumptious_.

If they were a normal family, she might have had seconds by now.

“I say this not to make you feel guilty, believe it or not. As we’ve expressed before, there are many more topics of your imprudence worth discussing. Our time in Neverland could have told you what I was willing to do to get our son back, but you might’ve been too busy trying to play Cupid.” Adjusting in her seat, she shifted to Emma’s left side. “His words hurt me, and I’m sure he meant every word. But _nothing_ in this, or any other world could stop me from protecting my son.”

The Dark Savior shook her head. “She nearly threw the fucking Sun at that thing.”

Snow blinked, remembering the blast that shook the whole town, and the glaring red flame that ascended higher than the clocktower. “So that’s what we saw.”

“I didn’t mean to send out a direct signal to where I was,” the former Mayor gently defended, “but I thank you for not bringing along your pet mob to the wraith fight.”

* * *

_Emma sat on the ground in stunned silence as Regina ripped off and threw down her arm-length coat, grimacing as the sleeves burned at her feet. “Holy shit.”_

_She gasped, looking over at her. “Are you alright?”_

_“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m alright.” She looked Regina over, her gaze quick and without judgement. “Are_ you _alright?”_

_“I think that’s a question that I’d have to pay a cricket to answer.” She glanced away, seeing Henry already back in the car, peeking from the window. “I apologize, Miss Swan.”_

_“Please, you just saved our lives. Can you just – call me Emma?”_

_“Okay._ Emma _. Mistakes were made; I also tried to kill you, so we’re even. Now, you have no reason to accept my apology, but – ”_

_“You were protecting Henry this whole time. Reverse roles, I’d try to kill you, too. No apologies necessary.” She held up her hand as Regina approached, and accepted the shaky, if overly warm, appendage. “We have to move, before it recovers.”_

_“Agreed.” She looked her temporary partner in the eye as she stood. “We still need to discuss this, sooner rather than later.”_

_“And your suicide attempt, I'm assuming? Hopefully, over some Apple Turnover. Poison or not, that shit smelled so good. The cinnamon was a nice touch.”_

_She almost cracked a smile. Despite the day’s events, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to smile. She didn’t think she would get the chance again. “I suppose you’ll be keeping an eye on me while I bake it this time?”_

_“Hey, if you want to poison me again, your son knows what to do.”_

_She gasped, anger predictably boiling up, until she realized what she just admitted. “... **My** son?”_

_“I think it’s about time we called a truce,” Emma continued, casually brushing off the back of her jeans. “I woke up Henry. Which means true love happened, according to him. If you care at all about Henry, you’ll keep me in his life.” She held up a hand to hold off The Mayor’s protests. “In return, I will protect you_ both _with my life, because in the end, you are still Henry’s mother, and I just saw the proof of that – He’s not ready to give up on you. I’m just not... built for that life, and from what I’ve seen, you’re very capable of doing literally everything at the same time. Besides killing me, of course; but hey, you tried, and that’s commendable.”_

_She gave her a critical eye. “Firstly, incorrect use of the word ‘literal’. Secondly, you’re telling me that I’m only alive right now, allowed to raise Henry for now, because you can’t be bothered to?”_

_The Sheriff rolled her eyes, smirking. “Only you can take a compliment cynically, you know that?” She brushed past her, towards her bug. “Let’s go.”_

_Regina had so many more questions, and she hadn’t the faintest idea where to start. But she had to leave, before the wraith came back. So, for now, she’d play along until she got her answers._

_It wouldn’t take long._

_**“EMMA! GET AWAY FROM HER!”** _

* * *

“Have I ever told you that your mother and I don’t get along well?”

Emma shook her head. “Maybe once or twice.” She eyed her guests with genuine intrigue. “I think we’ve passed the pre-meal chat several minutes ago. You haven’t touched anything.”

“You _just_ reminded me about the time she poisoned Henry,” Snow pointed out, ignoring her twitching nose at the ham that, by magic probably, was still smoking. Still, better safe than - whatever might’ve been planned for her. She could’ve sworn she had caught a whiff of almond, earlier.

“I learned my lesson,” Her mother-in-law turned daughter-in-law argued, giving her a bland look. “If I were going to kill you, I wouldn’t put it in leftovers, for God’s sake. I’d bake something fresh, just for you.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

“Watch your tone, mother. I raised you better than that.”

Emma snorted. “And you say _you_ were the bad influence on _me_.”

Snow White frowned. “So, why bring up your dislike for me this time? What is this one about? If I recall, David and I showed up shortly after that flare.”

“Yes; yes, you did. And how would you say your presence helped us?”

She couldn’t believe her ears - was she hit with _yet another_ memory curse? “ _We_ – We banished the wraith, Regina! One of Jefferson’s Hats - !”

“Exactly. Problem solved. Oh – wait. Of course you couldn’t keep it so simple.”

“My very first suggestion was to burn that hat,” Emma commented, glaring at her mother. “Even as we were fighting for custody of my future wife, I fought nearly as hard to destroy that thing. But you couldn’t fathom the thought. You were just so obsessed with finding a way _home_ , to a Kingdom that doesn’t even exist. So _desperate_ to re-open the portal. And what did it cost?”

Her mother didn’t answer. She refused to answer. David sat there uncomfortably, throughout the entire story, and Emma figured that he was feeling guilty the entire time. Perhaps he didn’t have to attend the family meeting.

“Henry refused to leave without you two, and you refused to leave this town – your subjects – behind. Without a trial, you had me in a holding cell, and you taunted me with the fact that my son didn’t even want to visit me.”

“I did _not_ taunt you! I only told you what he said!”

She glared at her over her mug, and even with the novelty ceramic in her cupped hands, sitting in her daughter’s lap, a pink towel around her neck and the fluffy purple bathrobe she was swaddled in – she _still_ hadn’t lost her charm for scaring the hell out of her in the least. “Like you never taunted that I could find true love with your dearest daddy, too? Like you never taunted that you were capable of bearing children, that you had married, that I need to believe in a hopeful future after you take _everything_ from me and put me in a cell?”

She was practically snarling, and Snow had no doubt that if her daughter weren’t holding her, she would have flown over the table towards her neck. “Your words have _meaning_. I have _always_ taught you that, even when I decided that your childishness was no longer my problem. Every single time you open your mouth, your words have meaning. _Bite me._ ”

“Regina, I didn’t... I didn’t know those things, at the time.”

“Of course you didn’t,” she chuckled, a humorless and dry response, and Snow cringed at the ugly, nostalgic sound. It had been a very long time since she sounded like _that_. “I learned not to tell you any secrets by then. And how could I possibly talk, dear girl, when you never bothered to just _shut the fuck up_ once in a while?”

“Granted, a trait I inherited,” Emma sighed, ignoring the somber, dead quiet mood of the room. “Turns out I talk to myself a lot, and Regina is a light sleeper.”

* * *

_“Dammit. Forgot my wallet.”_

_Regina’s eyes opened at the whispered curse, tensing, before she recognized the voice. She relaxed without really meaning to, already drifting back off._

_She never would’ve, previously. She couldn’t have ever seen herself relax when she was around the mother of her son, doubly so now that she couldn’t protect herself, vulnerable to anyone who wanted to visit the station after hours._

_But she had been true to her word. Locked in a cell, very limited access to the outside world (not that the outside world wanted to see her, and vice-versa), her only conduit being the intriguing Emma Swan. She had taken to protecting her seriously, like a second job, or maybe an extension of her first, but she discovered the special treatment, before she understood it. Her meals were anything but square, her bed was the softest thing she had ever slept in, and while she hadn’t had the opportunity to snoop around, she was sure the other cells didn’t have a mirror and dresser, fully stocked with her most practical clothes._

_She didn’t understand why Emma was being so... cordial with her. When she finally mustered enough courage (paranoia) to ask, she got a reasonable response._ _‘If I treated you bad, Henry would hate me, when he gets over himself.’_

_Reasonable for a few weeks, at least. Until she found the brand tag on the mattress, when she was changing the sheets._

_She wanted to accuse the Sheriff of funding her incarceration with her own funds, but a quick check with her phone (something Emma gladly provided - she didn’t have any lifelines to call, after all) showed that wasn’t the case, and her money hadn’t been touched. Emma even seemed to be paying for Henry’s school supplies and necessities, now. Like a mother._

_‘I have a nest egg, you know. Bounty hunters get paid more than you think in Boston, and I was pretty damn good. God, I wish you could’ve seen my apartment.’_ _She might have taken it as suggestive, but the blonde seemed genuinely prideful and wistful in her words._

_Personally escorted by the sheriff to the newly-opened library, one awkward apology with the Librarian later, an unsupervised search discovered that a lot of online contracts were signed with the former bounty hunter’s name at the bottom, stamped_ _**CAPTURED** _ _in red. Big money contracts, too._

_Then why move in with Mary Margaret?_

_‘Didn’t think I was staying that long, you know? By the time I figured I should get comfortable, Mary Margaret was labeled the town slut, and I couldn’t abandon my first friend in a new town.’ She chuckled dryly. ‘I figured I’d been running from my problems long enough.’_

_Her questions were never-ending, and Emma answered them in turn for her cooperation. Which, in turn, raised more questions._

_Their daily talks, accompanied by their daily walks were... nice. Public mockery aside, she looked forward to the natural sunlight, and even Emma commented that she would seem to have a special glow to it, though that might have been a dig, alluding to how pale she was. Despite her incarceration, she still cared very much about her health and body, and while she was provided with healthy baked meats and salads and quinoa (a word she was surprised Emma even knew), the meals were filling, and there was nothing else to otherwise distract herself with. The constant pestering to eat something ‘sinful’ once in a while by the overbearing warden_ _didn’t do any favors_ _( ‘I’m just trying to make sure you fill out this uniform right.’). Still, she knew that the regular diet of fast food and TV dinners were far cheaper than the cuisine Emma managed to mix up. She didn’t complain once - in fact, she seemed truly bewildered when asked for something simpler, like said microwaveable meals._

_The blonde sheriff was right - it didn’t kill her. She could see someone grow attached to a compact Stouffer’s tray after not having a home-cooked meal for a number of years like Emma, or even a number of months like herself._

_A number of months passed by, and she missed Henry’s birthday. That was acceptable. It hurt, but she couldn’t deny her son, and now that he wasn’t the town’s pariah, he deserved to feel like the prince she had always aspired for him to be, surrounded by people who hadn’t lied to him and made the entire town think he was truly insane._

_So, yes, she didn’t bother to put up much of a stink that she wasn’t invited to the party at Granny’s. Though Emma did bring back a piece of cake for her to enjoy._

_It was the first dessert she had shared with anyone since Henry’s tenth birthday, before he would run up the stairs and crack open his new gift from Mary Margaret.... Even with that thought in mind, when they tapped forks together and made a toast to their son, The former Evil Queen felt her heart become a little bit lighter._

_Her (technically) thirty-fourth birthday was spent in jail. **Jail**. Her last birthday wasn’t celebrated at all, and even if it was, she would have drunken it away. Her son had abandoned her, her sworn enemy had been released from jail and hailed as an innocent victim, and her alleged daughter had been countering her every move, skirting by her clever and meticulous tactics with pure dumb luck and pure dumb sheer will. This day seemed poised and ready to capsize that day quite spectacularly._

_Emma somehow found out - she had no earthly idea how she could have, she hadn’t told anyone her birthday in years - and she expressed regret that she wasn’t able to bake a cake. Upon hearing what Regina thought about her birthday, however, she frowned in response._

_‘Could be worse - could be prison,’ her warden bragged, shrugging her shoulders helplessly, and –_

_Wait. That wasn’t bragging at all, was it? Do people usually brag when they hug the bars from the other side, slipping her hands through to hold hers, rubbing her pale knuckles in such a tender fashion?_

_No, she was fairly sure that it wasn’t a brag. At least, Snow White hadn’t showed such concern when she held her prisoner. Not that she would’ve accepted it. But she didn’t know how comforting it would feel, and likely never would have known if she wasn’t such a captive audience for so long._ _She had offered to come into the cell with her, or letting her out to - she wasn’t sure what, but... she wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Maybe next birthday, if she lived that long. If anything, she felt safer inside her cell. It protected her from her enemies, the townspeople, and more concerningly, any other temptations she may or may not have felt. It kept everything simple._

_She had stopped comparing Snow White to her daughter at some point. She didn’t even compare her to her father, despite the physically closer similarities. Emma was far more independent than Charming, more quick-witted than her mother, more level-headed than both, and Regina had a grudging admiration for all of it._

_Hell, if they were still in the Enchanted Forest, Sidney would have an entirely new answer to the question that, allegedly, started it all. Then again, if they were still there, Emma would have been raised by the Charmings, and a deep shudder ran through her whole being._

_Where did that come from? She wasn’t usually proud of making someone an orphan. Just because the blonde had forgiven her, it was no excuse to be pleased about it. While no one would benefit from being the spawn of Snow White and Charming, Emma had become an exceptional individual, un-poisoned and untrained in her poise and attitude._

_She’d have been angry about it all, if it wasn’t her fault. Bitch didn’t even blame her for it, which made her angrier._

_Her birthday in jail, what was supposed to be the most miserable rock-bottom moment of her second life, was possibly one of the best birthdays she’d ever had, and she blamed the sheriff for that entirely. Henry, under protest, visited her cell for the first time since her incarceration, and they ate together, the inmate insistent that Emma join them, wanting to know more about her situation so many years ago. The woman shared her story of spending her nineteenth birthday in jail, missing her baby whose name she never knew, and alone. She looked purposely at Regina, longingly, proclaiming her weakness and vulnerability while incarcerated._

_‘It wasn’t all bad, though,’ s_ _he struggled to gather the words, after a long, awkward pause. Birthdays were supposed to be festive._ _‘I made the right choice. I’m not happy about how this all turned out, but at least you never had the chance to be raised inside of a prison cell, Henry.’_

_Ignoring Emma’s subtle jab (she was sure there was one in that statement, somewhere), it didn’t take a genius to figure out what her son was going to say (‘feels like it’, ‘I’m having dinner with two wardens,’ or ‘I think I’ll skip desert this time’ was probably somewhere in there), stirring his food around with a half-way Leroy-like expression, and she only rolled her eyes in response._

_A loud clatter made her jump._ _ ‘Apologize. **Now**.’ _

_And for a long, uncomfortable moment, she thought Emma was talking to her. Opening her mouth hesitantly, she began to stammer out a plea for forgiveness, not even considering why, or what her son muttered to draw such ire. But to hear Henry stammer instead, and turn puce in anger as he stared back at his blonde mother, she finally understood, and... she was still partially ashamed in her reaction. But mostly grateful._

_She wasn’t incorrect in her guess about Henry’s words that made the Sheriff explode - it was something benign, and something she had heard a hundred times since the damned book came into their lives. Still, it was the first time she saw Emma actually mad at Henry. Irritated, of course, but legitimately furious? Unprecedented. And, somehow, that made her day. Call her crazy (and she’d been called a lot worse), but she enjoyed the acknowledgement of her parenting skills. She’d been harsh, but never abusive, and always loving. She’d been a _parent _, and a damn good one._

_And Emma told her that, nearly verbatim. And she believed that Emma believed it._

_‘This part – the part where you raised him – this isn’t a fairytale. It was real. You’re not some wicked stepmom, and he’s not some innocent child ready to get swept off his feet by some hero. He’s not a victim, he’s spoiled and pretending. And sadly, for all of us, you raised him to be that damn clever.’ _ _He grimaced as he sat on the bed, sitting in the cell she usually occupied, as he suffered his ‘time-out’. It was odd to look in from the outside, at her own son, and feel any type of positive sentiment, but Emma was trying to prove a point. Admittedly, she would have made a great mother._ _‘Tell her, kid; How many comics are in that cell with you? How big is the TV? Where’s the window? Can you even tell me what time it is? Because that’s where you were born, and that’s where you could’ve lived. If you even made it to this age, I promise you’ll never even hit a growth spurt if you had to live in a Volkswagen. So count your freaking blessings, because I can count mine on one hand.’_

_Of course, Henry stopped coming to visit her after that, and she supposed that was natural. Emma looked sorry enough about it afterwards – apparently, he had stopped talking to her as well, she deduced by the lack of updates she was once receiving about her son. She claimed to have not regretted her words one bit, which frustrated Regina for reasons she couldn’t even fathom. A part of her could have blamed Emma for her son’s absence, and she absolutely did._

_Damn her power. If she herself couldn’t accept her blame as the truth, how would she get it past the human lie detector?_ _Unbelievably, she had chuckled aloud every time she thought about Emma lecturing her son, and...._

_... And she’d be lying if she said it would be the first time since her imprisonment_ _._

_Stockholm Syndrome, was what she began to diagnose it as – eight and a half months locked up so far, listening to her warden, being told her stories, manipulated into sharing her own past._

_She was so busy convincing herself that she was only pretending to be her friend, a model prisoner, that she didn’t notice she was falling in love with her keeper._

_It was a truth she hadn’t yet faced, and even if Emma told her it wasn’t a lie, she’d accuse her of - she didn’t know yet._

_“Dammit. Forgot my wallet. Don’t fuck this up, Swan...”_

_Her back was turned to the bars, and the station was quiet. It was just her, and Emma. She listened._

_“Need to pick up some flowers,” she muttered to herself. “Flowers. She’d like flowers, right? Gotta drop by Belle’s.”_

_Belle? Rumple’s Belle? Why would she need to get her flowers?_

_No, wait, that wasn’t right. Her father owned a flower shop. She wouldn’t need any flowers, but she could help Emma get flowers._

_For whom?_

_She wanted to ignore the momentary spike of anger, and betrayal, and maybe even a tangent of fear, at the stray thought that the flowers might’ve been for the small brunette. They seemed courteous enough the last time she was escorted to the library, and Emma seemed almost frustrated at the librarian when it came to her choice in partners._

_Today was Valentine’s Day; she knew that much. The calendar on her wall, an enchanted pen stuck to the fourteenth box, taunted her. She had never celebrated it before when she was made aware of this realm’s holidays, and obviously, she had no intention to celebrate it. There were few holidays in the year that the Mayor was expected to acknowledge, and occasionally gather everyone to officially recognize; Valentine’s Day was not one of them._

_Apparently, today in particular meant a great deal to Emma, considering she was fretting about a date, and despite how uncomfortable it was to witness this, a tightening in her chest made her breaths shallow, her ears pound, and she became nearly terrified of every sound that Emma made as she moved around in the dark, never knowing what she could be doing to ready herself for her romantic evening - and, more importantly, who the individual was. She slowly turned her head, keeping her body prone under the covers, and looked over._

_The room was dark, save for a little light from the moon, and her eyes were still blurry from sleep, but she saw the glittering badge gliding about the station, the Sheriff’s sharp green eyes allowing her to move about with very little trouble under the peaking moon. A red candle was lit, setting the Sheriff aglow for a brief moment, before the flame was quickly pinched out._

_“I’ll light it when I get back,” she muttered, before chuckling wryly, prompting a shuddering breath from her secret watcher. “Wouldn’t want to burn the damn place down with her trapped in here. Top ten shittiest first dates.”_

_It was too dark to see the clock on the wall, but she would guess that it was nearly midnight. Her blue denim skinny jeans and white button-down with rolled up sleeves looked better than it should have on her thin, athletic frame. Her golden locks of hair, usually elbow-length, had been gathered into a ponytail to rest at her shoulders. She still wore her brown lace-up boots, but she only owned two pairs of shoes, and it sent a bad message to wear your running shoes on a sitting date._

_Undoubtedly, Swan was dressed to kill. It was simple, and some might even call it lazy, but it was so unapologetically Emma. Even without her red leather jacket, she could pull off a signature look, and the only thing she was missing was that thousand watt smile, a Charming little genetic disorder that, until recently, she thought she was firmly immune to. Except she looked nervous. And no one made Emma Swan nervous. _

_Regina pondered the blonde’s words as the footsteps faded, and she was alone with her thoughts._ _She didn’t like being alone, trapped in silence, no noise to distract her. It gave her too much time to scheme._

_She had told off Emma earlier that day, her distaste for the ‘day of love’, when in-passing, the Sheriff wished her a Happy Valentine’s Day. She had ranted, the disgust on her face as she told the blonde off, for the insensitivity of reminding her of a day of love, of togetherness, while she rotted in a cell, alone, with not even a card from her only son. To her credit, she stayed around – she could’ve walked off at any time, and for some reason, she didn’t – and when she was finished, deflated, and nearly in tears, the Sheriff of Storybrooke had the nerve to look guilty, and finally muttered – _ _ ‘Yeah, I guess. Unless you have someone to enjoy it with. I hear it’s pretty cool then, but I’ve also heard everything’s cooler when you have someone to... I mean, I guess I don’t, but I never did anyway. I’m just... used to it, I guess. And I guess I’m more used to just wishing it to other people. Sorry.’ _

_That apology just made her day worse. They had their fights, of course - Henry, Snow White and Charming usually their most common ‘discussion’ points - but fresh off of her memorable birthday celebration, the nicest thing anyone had done for her in a_ very _long time... Emma didn’t deserve that. It was something she could’ve expected, but not deserved. A few hours later, she found herself apologizing to Sheriff Swan, her warden, her jailer, for any stress that she might have caused. She had waved it off, claiming that she wasn’t thinking when she did it, and promised that she wouldn’t be alone for Valentine’s Day anyway._

 _Either someone was waiting out of her vision, silently taunting her with their immeasurable patience, or this was a surprise for_ her. For Regina.

_Sitting in complete darkness and silence for ten minutes, she decided that Emma’s date was either the most patient woman in the world (because Emma definitely said ‘her’), she was a librarian (and the thought made her stomach churn) or a mime, or the Sheriff had romantic intentions for the Former Mayor, Current Prisoner of Storybrooke._

_The sad thing is, it probably wasn’t even a ridiculous leap of logic. Emma was... a strange creature. Never asking about the former Sheriff Graham’s fate, never denying her any necessity or right, and never, even once, blaming her for her childhood._

_She had a speech planned – two, actually, drafted out fully in her head, nearly signed and notarized, and she teetered back and forth on them, her moods ever-changing, but her words were set in stone, ready for Emma’s return._

_One speech consisted of scaring away the blonde, and that speech didn’t require much planning. It came as easy as magic used to._

_The other speech was something that was too difficult to draft efficiently without a notepad, but much too embarrassing to ever write down. She didn’t have a trash can, and she had no proof the Sheriff didn’t check through her trash for any plans or secret messages. She didn’t have proof to the opposite, either, but it was best to stay cautious._

_Both speeches went out the window, when the lights came on, and her son came into view. “Mom?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 100 kudos! Incredible! This takes a shit on Emmalina's stats. BTW, check out [Emmalina](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008321/chapters/34786664) while you wait for the next chapter (it won't be long!). I promise it's at the very least, decent!
> 
> Dedicated to **Snowflake**. 2015-2020. You will be missed.  
> Not dedicated to the year **2020**. 2020-2020. You won't be.  
> Happy New Year! Please leave a review, and I'll shout you out in the next chapter!  
> (If you missed it, you're at the beginning notes)


	3. Purple is the New Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If she liked Emma, she would have rejected her. If she had a small space in her heart to be filled with Emma’s laugh, her smile, her patience and warmth, she would have never given this relationship a chance.

“Looking back, that was a cheap move,” Regina commented, and Emma shrugged, not denying it. “You used our son to get me in a certain mood. I hadn’t seen him since my birthday.”

“He wasn’t part of the plan, and to be fair, it was Henry’s idea. He saw me sneaking out of the house. Wanted to snitch on me when I told him where I was going, until I gave him an ultimatum; come with me and see how much you missed him, or he would lose both mothers.” She sighed, tapping the table, and a bottle of the finest apple whiskey appeared, next to two small glasses. “Considering what happened a few months later…”

“No skipping,” her wife admonished, before taking her glass and sliding it smoothly to Mary Margaret, who fumbled before she caught it. Suddenly remembering the not-so-hidden message on the mug, she spied the see-through label this time.

“ _Roni & Jen_? I’ve never heard of that brand.”

“It’s from a local bar I went to a few months back. Ever heard of Hyperion Heights?”

Even Regina looked confused as Mary-Margaret tried to recall the name. “No, I don’t think so.” Giving a look to Neal, slumbering in her blanket harness, she reluctantly passed the glass to her husband, who accepted gratefully. “Maybe later.”

Dawning recognition came to the brunette, and she gave Emma another questioning look. “When did you have time to steal a full bottle and two shot-glasses?”

“I didn’t – that was a wedding gift. They gave us, like, five of ‘em. And ten glasses.”

“And you decide to inform me of this _after_ – ” she paused, and snapped her mouth shut. “Never mind that. I’m glossing over the best Valentine’s day of my life, at that point. We should all give it the time it deserves.”

* * *

> **February 14, 2013** _(nine months after the curse break)_

_Emma opened the cell, and The two women spared a nervous glance before Regina creaked forward, brushing past to hug her son, tears rolling down her cheeks before the warden could turn the key. When he tentatively wrapped his arms around her back, she crashed to her knees, fully broken down._

_The Sheriff let them be, going back to the car and bringing in a box of food. The brunette was grateful for the reprieve, the absence of emotions and confrontations. This was as simple as she could have wished for; she didn’t have to think about loving her son, and she didn’t care who knew – certainly not his other mother, whose affections she had warred for – with – in a past that seemed so long ago._

_Mother and son made small-talk, the longest civil conversation they had with each other in over a year, while Emma moved the office desk back and set up a fold-out picnic table with a frilly red tablecloth, and though Regina had been distracted by her son, her curiosity over something peculiar she had noticed was overwhelming._

_“Two plates, this time?”_

_Emma paused, setting down the forks. “Uh, yeah. I’ll come back later, I already ate.”_

_Regina frowned. She might not have ‘superpowers’, but she had come to know the blonde in the past eight months, and she could tell when a lie was spilled._

_Henry seemed to agree, and shook his head. “I’m not here to stay,” he muttered, and her look of sadness was only matched by Emma’s. “I wanted to see how you were, but I still have homework. I’ll walk home.”_

_“The hell you are,” Emma growled, beating Regina’s “Absolutely not” by milliseconds. “I’ll drive you.”_

_He glanced between his mothers. “Fine,” he pouted, and hugged his pajama-clad mom again._

_“Just – give it a chance,” he whispered, and gave her a genuine smile, before running off to the door._

_Emma looked like she was about to say something, before snapping her mouth shut. “Sorry,” she muttered, feeling dejected, as if Henry had disappointed her instead._

_Finally paying attention to the unlit candles around them, on the table, next to her computer, the faint scent of cinnamon reaching her sensitive nose – Oh. Perhaps he did._

_She went off a hunch. “A picnic? Isn’t that just adorable of him?”_

_She gave the former Mayor a curious look. “Yeah, right. Heh. I, uh, I got some work to do in the office – ”_

_“Did you plan on Henry staying?” She blinked innocently._

_“What? Well – yeah. I just, you hadn’t seen him since your birthday, and he decided he wanted to see you today – he told me about making a nice dinner for you a-and he must’ve changed his mind – ”_

_“Miss Swan. You’re rambling.” There were always bars between them, and she made sure to keep her distance when she was escorted in public, on her semi-weekly runs and strolls. Moments where she longed to be closer flooded her mind, and even if they confused her – sometimes angered her – she knew what she was feeling, and she had always known. Everything had kept them apart, and her own mental walls did nothing to help Emma Swan, who seemed to have replaced her chainsaw with a sledgehammer._

_The fight seemed to have left her, now, the disappointment in her eyes. From where Regina stood, her barriers were also, finally, down. She stepped closer. “You protest too much, Sheriff. I didn’t pay you to break this easy under interrogation. I ask again – what was Henry doing here?”_

_She fumbled with the forks – two of them, Regina noted – and cleared her throat. “He wanted to see you.”_

_Oh, the joyous feeling of catching someone in a lie. Now she understood one of the reasons Emma could grow up with such a beautiful smile, despite such a harsh life. “There’s a difference between wanting to see me and ready to sit down at the table with me. Henry was clearly not ready for that so soon after the first time.” She peered over to the small fruit cup at the edge of the table. “Sliced watermelon, avocados, and apples? I’m quite sure I’ve informed you that he’s allergic to watermelon?”_

_“… Yeah,” she muttered, deflating. “Yeah, he told me that once. And – I know you’re not fond of avocados.”_

_“And yet…?”_

_“But I love ‘em,” she admitted, looking ready to fall into the chair. “It’s just something I picked up on the way here, when I decided I should just leave you guys to it. That was supposed to stay in the car, I think he snuck it in the basket. It’s – yeah, it’s absurd of me, I know, I got it, but I’m snapping out of it. You probably wanted to have dinner with Henry, anyway, on Valentine’s Day. I don’t know what I was thinking.”_

_“I believe you were hoping I’d have a good Valentine’s Day,” Regina sniffed, crossing her arms, “and I have to tell you, Sheriff, minus the surprise visit, this is a piss-poor start. I will not be a part of this manipulation plot that you roped Henry into. As you once said – he’s too damn clever for that.”_

_Emma nodded, even as Regina approached ever closer, her green eyes on the treacherous plastic cup of fruit._

_If she liked Emma, she would have rejected her there and then. If she had a small space in her heart to be filled with Emma’s laugh, her smile, her patience and warmth, she would have never given this relationship a chance. Her brain was much too logical, and always calculating – usually, the formula for her own destruction and where it would come from. And the thought of confessing to the daughter of Snow White, pining or lusting after her, or even trusting her, was signing her own death certificate._

_All of this still seemed like a trap. But it certainly didn’t feel like it._

_“I do hope you are able to recoup the rest of the night, Sheriff Swan. Just because Henry and I saw right through your attempts to dump him on me, doesn’t mean the night is over.” Emma’s eyes flashed with surprise, and something she didn’t quite understand, but she knew she wouldn’t mind seeing more of it. “Drive him home, and come back. Before the food gets cold.”_

_“Wait; you still want to have dinner with me?”_

_The honest shock in her voice was one thing, but those expressive green eyes that kept her up at night, looking at her like a lifeline…. She bit her lip, refraining herself from rubbing at her silk-laden arms. Why, oh why did she have to be such a light sleeper?_

_“Your deductive skills are unflappable,” she muttered, still not sure whether she wanted to smile or laugh or grimace or cry. Maybe a combination._

_If she was going to sign her death certificate, she might as well John Hancock it. Because merely ‘liking’ Emma, at this point, was so far gone in the past, and so long-forgotten, she wasn’t even entirely sure they had gone through that phase, and skipped over it entirely. She had missed the signs, and she was falling._

_“I’d like to do many things with you, Sheriff Swan, not just share a free meal. I’m not blind to your eye, and I know there’s a reason for your generosity – ”_

_“Stop. Please **stop**.” The prisoner blinked at Emma’s sudden grimace, the angry Sheriff that had once irked her beyond a point of frustration making a brief appearance. “Don’t fucking talk like that. I’m nice to you because I want to be, because no one else tries to, and you don’t deserve this. No one, except maybe Gold, deserves this. I don’t expect anything from you, and if that’s how you think I feel, we’re never bringing this up again.” She huffed. “God, you’re frustrating. You’re just like your son. Always thinking there’s an ulterior motive.”_

_In her year of knowing Emma, she knew that, but it was nice to have validation. “Yes, well, if you recall, he turned out to be right.”_

_“You know he said some unacceptable shit, Regina. That was straight up disrespect, and whatever else he said – that was a long time ago. Before I was even born. Not my business.”_

_Regina shifted her eyes, rebuttals in her mind coming in waves, but she couldn’t voice them. Emma seemed to have a new one every time she tried, and the crazy thing was, she was starting to come to her side of things. “I’m… trying, Emma. I’m not the easiest to approach, I’ll admit to that. But since I’m stuck here, and you seem infatuated with a monster, I may as well see what damages you must have up close.” It was a tease, but a part of her believed that statement, too._

_Emma blinked, before she grinned. “I, uhh… we can talk about that over dinner, then. Good? Good. I guess I’ll take Henry home.”_

_“Do come back quickly, Miss Swan,” she muttered, looking over her shoulder as Emma got to the hallway. “I’m partial to bellflowers or hydrangeas, in case you’re wondering. Or were you afraid of burning those, too?”_

_She chuckled ruefully. “So you did hear? Me and my big mouth. Might as well get the lighter, too.”_

_“Yes, please. And take the fruit with you. I don’t want any ill effects. Make sure the taste doesn’t linger.”_

* * *

“So it _was_ a trap,” Snow nodded, her chin in her hand, pondering aloud – probably still thinking about the ‘damages up close’ line. “And you only wanted to get close to her to see her weakness.” She blinked, looking up at the none-too-pleased couple. “…Right?”

“Partially,” Regina revealed with a tilted head, not missing a beat. “I admit, everything about her made me curious. And I did want to know her weaknesses. I think I’ve found every single one by this point.”

“Firstly, just because I’m ticklish doesn’t mean it’s a weak spot, and two, the ones I tell you about don’t count.”

“Oh, darling, you didn’t have to say a thing. I found plenty that Valentine’s night.”

“I don’t need to be here,” David muttered, his face a look of utter agony, while Snow White nearly jumped again when reminded of his presence. A quarter of the bottle was gone, and though he didn’t seem drunk, his depression rolled off of him in _waves_. “I really don’t need to be here. Don’t ever tell me anything about your relationship ever again, _please_. I’m not involved. I never was.”

Emma nodded. “As long as we’re clear on that.”

“I love you, Emma. You’re the daughter I wish I could’ve had. I wasn’t a fan of you, Regina, but you’ve never actually hurt me the way you hurt Snow, not directly. I’ve always wanted to fight my wife’s battles, because that’s what my mom raised me to do, but she’s proven time and time again, she can fend for herself. I’m just support. The guy that wakes her up when she’s knocked down.” He turned to his wife with guilty eyes, and she gave him a truly _betrayed_ look in return. “I’ll always be on your side, Snow. You know I will. I’ve defended you on every decision you’ve made, and while I’ve had problems with that before, I don’t want a vote on this. This is between you and Regina, it always has been. Back home, this marriage would’ve called for a truce.”

“It would have called for an annulment,” Snow quickly corrected him, “And a _blood feud_.”

“It was _always_ a blood feud, Snow,” he told her, taking on a sadder tune. “Her mother killed yours, you nearly killed hers. Is this feud never going to end? Would you honestly keep Neal away from her, have him grow up without ever knowing that he had a big sister? We could both lie, and say that Emma becoming the Dark One killed our daughter, but… she wasn’t ever our daughter to claim. And by everything she’s telling us, we never knew her. She doesn’t see us as parents, and we’ve never given her a reason to think that.”

“How could you even _say_ that?! Of _course_ she’s our daughter! That’s what this is about! Her _wife_ never gave us the chance! She _stole_ her from us! In case _everyone_ forgot, my misery has been a heavy motivator for _everything she’s ever done to all of us!_ This is what it’s always been about! And now we’re just gonna pretend that this doesn’t accomplish _exactly_ what she want– !”

Several seconds of silence passed, before he realized that she was frozen.

“I didn’t steal her from you.”

He sighed, hunching forward to check on his son, only to see him still asleep, breathing peacefully, unlike his mother. “I know. We can blame you all we want, but we agreed to give her up. We planned to get her back one day, but only after she… saved us. Then we expected a fairytale ending, I guess. We made a decision that haunted us, and you, and there isn’t a day I don’t regret it. Did you… did you ever blame Neal when you gave Henry up?”

Emma looked surprised at the question, pursing her lips in thought. “When I was in jail? Yeah, a little. He didn’t even know I was pregnant. I blamed him for my incarceration, of course. He made the choice to abandon me, and purposefully got me arrested. He and August trade spots on my shit-list for life because pregnant or not, that’s a shitty thing to do. And yeah, I always blamed myself too, for giving up my son. I gave him up for adoption, I signed the papers. I decided that I shouldn’t ever see him again.”

“You didn’t decide that; I did. I made sure to put that in the contract. To make sure no one could decide to take him from me one day.” Regina blinked slowly, setting down her mug. “Life comes in a full circle, I suppose. I don’t recall taking your child, Charming, but I certainly remember saving hers. Emma would have had Henry taken from her anyway, by force. She literally had no other choice. I imagine that it would be difficult to escape jail while bearing a child. She only had the _ultimatum_ of anonymous adoption, or child services. I can assure you that one wasn’t a possibility.” Her twitching fingers stilled against the table. “I can be blamed for a lot of things, and my culpability is unquestioning. There was a time when I could say that I was proud of every evil act I accomplished. When Emma told me of her upbringing, I blamed myself. I blamed myself plenty of times. If you want to blame me for Emma’s life away from you, I can allow that. I take full responsibility for it.”

“Regina – !”

“But if you want to blame me,” she continued with a rising tone, unimpeded of her wife’s interruption, “for taking her from your arms and hiding her away from you – I am a spoke on the wheel! We are _all_ responsible for Emma’s upbringing! Me, you, Rumple, Geppetto and his _stupid_ puppet, your entire war room of _idiots_! I scared you both into doing something insane, and reckless, and you _sacrificed_ your _daughter_.”

“ _‘Gina,_ ” she whispered brokenly, and her wife stiffly leaned back into her. “That’s what you think?”

“I only think it because it’s true,” she muttered back, giving her an apologetic look. “They didn’t know how prophecies work. I cast a curse that would leave magic behind. Once made, it cannot be broken. Magic or no magic, apparently, it will find a way.” She cleared her throat. “So everything worked out, of course. Everything always works out. We have the Author to _thank_ for that.”

“He gets a lot of the blame too. Practically all of it. He’s not a problem anymore.”

David shuddered at her tone. He didn’t want to know what she meant by that. He was done asking questions. “I can’t speak for my wife. She’s always spoken for herself. Sometimes, she speaks for the both of us.” He shook his head. “Forced to pick, I’ll always be on Snow’s side. If your love is as true as you say, you know there isn’t another choice.”

Emma nodded, her eyes misted over. “I figured. I just wanted to hear you say it. We might not be the father and daughter we were supposed to be, but… I’ve still considered you a friend.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner to have my back. If there aren’t any bows around, of course.”

“I’ve always wondered why you let her push you around,” Regina muttered, picking up her mug again. “I understand, now – her daughter is unyielding in her persuasions. But a marriage is about compromise.”

“Yeah,” he half-heartedly agreed, sitting back in their chair. “Yeah.” He looked around their table. “Three chairs. It’s always been like this, hasn’t it?”

“For the past four years,” Regina quietly confirmed, before looking back at Emma. “A new set I picked up the day we came home from jail. After I got her away from the barstool section.” The Dark Savior flushed, and they exchanged a smile that David had never seen on the visage of the Evil Queen. “And to think that once, I couldn’t even imagine another chair at this table. Before you came into my life, I thought that I would be sitting here alone, today. And now… now we need to go shopping again.”

The Dark Savior hummed in agreement; David furrowed his brow.

“I’m… pregnant.”

She looked into her wife’s eyes as she said it, but she made sure her new father-in-law could hear her. It was technically the first time – _in her life_ – that those specific words escaped her mouth. Telling Henry wasn’t expressed in words, but rather, a ‘Proud Big Brother’ emblazoned leather jacket, a lot of excited nods and smiles, and a _lot_ of tears.

It felt incredible to say.

“I… uh…” he was at a loss of what to say, and she understood. She had a feeling this was going to come up a _lot_. “Uh… how?”

The brunette chuckled. “Are you _sure_ you want an answer to that?”

“Magic,” Emma simplified for them both, still locked onto Regina’s mischievous cinnamon-brown eyes. “A whole lotta love, and a whole lotta magic.”

“A product of True Love,” Charming whispered brokenly, before clearing his throat. “I won’t pretend that this isn’t gonna take some time to get used to. I hope it doesn’t take long – she’ll understand eventually, but I’m not waiting to decide whether or not you can see your little brother whenever you want. And I hope he makes a new friend, down the road. Congratulations. Truly. I’m happy for you both.”

Emma blinked, actually moved by her father’s confession. Maybe their expertise at saying the right words were just a mutual family skill? “I believe you,” she uttered, somewhat incredulous. “Thanks.”

He gave them a smile, and for once, it was a truly carefree, Charming smile. “What a sad state of affairs we’re in, if you have to keep your baby a secret from your… well, from _us_ , but… I guess we’re not a normal family, are we?”

“No, I suppose not,” Regina admitted, turning back to face him. “But you’re the first in our family to know, sans Henry of course. That gives you plenty of time for the perfect shower gift.”

He chuckled. “Thank you. I’m honored. And again, congrats.”

Emma pondered what to do next in a moment of silence, before tapping the table. “Take the rest of the day off. You have my word I won’t hurt your wife, but you seemed to have gotten the point. She needs a little bit more workshopping.” Before he could protest, if he even wanted to, he was swept away in a white swirl, the wooden chair nudging on its feet in his absence. After a moment of thought, she did the same to the sleeping child, the harness swirling off the statue-like frame of Snow White. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t possibly keep.”

“I’ll keep my promise. Not to quote a former mentor, I always keep my end of the bargain. _But_ , if I recall, I didn’t promise anything on _your_ behalf.”

Regina flashed her lover a grin, before she frowned curiously. “When should we announce the news?”

“It’s New Year’s Day. What better time? We’ll make a Lion King display of it. Though I would’ve preferred morning time, for the visuals…”

She hummed. “And how would we do that? By lifting up my shirt and flashing my midriff while standing over a cliff?”

“Of course not. I’ll lift you up. Or else it’ll just look silly.” She kissed her wife’s grinning lips, pulling back quickly to ask, “Were you serious about the baby shower?”

“Oh, _absolutely_. Neither of us have ever had the chance to throw one, and frankly, I’m looking forward to the discussions and rumors of whether you actually magicked a functioning penis and scrotum to make this happen!”

“Sounds… messy. Messier than our usual mess, at least.”

“All the more reason to try it, one day. New Year, new resolutions. Maybe tonight…?”

“I married a beast.”

“I told you that the moment we began this adventure together.”

* * *

> **April 28, 2013** _(11 months after the curse break)_

_“You… you don’t believe that, do you?”_

_Regina paused, blinking up at her from her position, betwixt her thighs. “Pardon?”_

_That confusion slowly morphed into annoyance, as Emma took a solid minute to catch her breath, which both pleased and frustrated the brunette to no end. The blonde had unlocked a side of her that she never knew she had, and her rather literal pent-up state left a blinders effect of focus that left her more than eager to please her warden savior. “Um… the whole ‘monster’ thing? You really think that?”_

_She couldn’t believe her ears. “… Seriously? I’ve been down here for a good half-hour, I just felt you release on my face, nearly going up my goddamn nose, and this is what comes out of your semi-conscious mouth?”_

_“I have a one-track mind,” she drawled, gently dragging the brunette up her torso, until their lips met._

_“Is that what took you so long to get there? Of all the nonsense that spills from your top lips,” the former witch murmured, briefly chuckling. “And your impeccable timing, killing the mood before your turn. I should kill you for your disrespect.”_

_“…Do you actually want to?”_

_“…Old habits die hard?”_

_“Then try killing those, then.”_

_“It’s a process,” she grumbled, leaning up, her short brown hair framing her face so angelically, in the florescent lights of the interrogation room. It was a pure moment, one that only Regina could ruin in incredible fashion. “Your attempt at pillow-talk is sorely lacking. Sheriff Graham wasn’t nearly this wordy when we – ”_

_“Yeah, how about we not talk about him, until his murder investigation is closed.”_

_She took a deep sigh, guiltily looking away from suddenly reserved green eyes. “I suppose you just answered your own question, Sheriff.” She slowly rolled off her, gently pressing her bare feet to the tiled floor. “I’ve been telling you since we began this.”_

_“To scare me away; I get that. I don’t scare easily.”_

_“Not to scare you, idiot! To warn you. You think I’m telling you ghost stories? Tall tale exaggerations? Emma, there’s a reason I’m in this jail, and it’s not to keep you company! I can at least care for you enough to let you know that what you want from me is **unattainable**. Further, there’s a reason that your mother wants to transfer me out of this town! That – that my own son will never trust me, now that he knows the truth.”_

_Emma winced, sitting up on the metal table. “Please don’t believe that. He loves you.”_

_“He loves me,” she repeated in a higher pitch, nearly in a snarl, crossing her arms over her bare breasts. “That’s why he crossed state lines to find his birth mother, taunted me on a daily basis, and knowingly consumed poison to protect you._ Because he loves **_me_** _.” She spat the words with such disgust, and it broke Emma’s heart._

_“…Yeah,” she finally agreed. “The same reason you sent him to therapy, destroyed his playground, tried to kill me on multiple occasions. Allegedly killed Graham. **Love**. Yeah, you both lost sight of why you did what you both did, but there’s a common theme. Henry went through all that to save you and rehab you, and don’t forget what he did when you were going to give yourself to that wraith. It’s the reason I tried to fight that wraith, and killed a dragon, and cut down your tree, and chose to ignore all the obvious signs that magic could even be real. Because I was worried for Henry.”_

_“For Henry? You’re telling me that’s why you tackled me and tried to protect me from my soul getting kidnapped?” She chuckled darkly, and Emma swore she swiped at her eyes. “You’re insane.”_

_“You’re evil. Or you were. And that’s okay.”_

_Despite herself, her lips twitched. “You’re proving my point, Sheriff.”_

_“I just like to point out that we’re finally having the conversation we should’ve had for months, in an interrogation room.”_

_“What’s in this for you?” she finally wondered aloud, eyes scrutinizing her naked form, in a way that she was, for once, uncomfortable with. “Why do you insist on pursuing whatever this is with me? I know your history, you’ve only been with one lover, Henry’s birth father.”_

_“Okay, rude! And how could you possibly know my romantic history?”_

_“I thoroughly vet anyone my son kidnaps. And sometimes, you’ve said a comment or two in your sleep. None of it was complimentary, but he seems to be the only ex you’ve cursed. I don’t doubt you could bed anyone you want, even in Storybrooke. You have your pick, Sheriff. Why me? Is it the taboo? Some delayed rebellious phase against your parents? Or is this also, somehow, for Henry?”_

_“…Seriously? Are you out of your fucking – have you seen you? Frankly, you’re out of my league, or anyone’s. You’re kind when you want to be, you’re confident and unflappable and cool and passionate as fuck, your voice makes me want a cigarette after you give a speech and I don’t even smoke – and I’m babbling, I know that, but you’re still-fucking- **naked** and uh-I-don’t-have-a-goddamn-filter_– _when-that-fuckin-body’s-in-front-of-me – !”_

 _“See, that’s the excuse that I give,” she noted calmly while Emma was taking a breath. The blonde chose to stay silent and disbelieving, still sitting there, her chest rising and falling, her green eyes filled with concern and nervousness. “That’s my excuse. That… always should’ve been my excuse, anyway. Beauty is skin-deep, and I’m the one-dimensional Evil Queen. A **witch**_. _A shape-shifting temptress with a black heart, truly hideous on the inside. I see a pure, highly malleable doll, royal property. I stamp my name on a cheap. Sweet. Convenient. **Fuck**. And if you had played your cards right the night you returned my son, and actually told me you were leaving town and didn’t return, that might have happened exactly as I planned it. That’s how this works. That is how it’s supposed to be._

_“But you – you’re the princess with a pure heart and an excellent judge of character.” She bit her lip. “So how did you go so wrong?”_

_“You’re cute when you’re confused. I don’t get to see it that often, let me take it in for a sec.”_

_Her tongue dragged across the top row of her teeth, silently counting in her head, ignoring the succulent bittersweet taste of Emma lingering in her mouth. Before she could speak, however, the blonde leaned closer, and now it was her leaning back against the table, her eyes shifting up the slightest bit to reach the green eyes that always bore deeper than skin, even at a glance. “You’re focused on the last part. For someone who corrects me on my grammar so much, you don’t have much respect for sentence structure. I don’t mind – I can’t force you to see what I see. But what’s non-negotiable is that I see you, and I love what I see. You can make up your theories, question me with a potion or whatever, or hell, find a way to borrow my bullshit detector. If you truly meant any of that, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You would have choked me on the first night you invited me into your cell. I’ve legit done the ‘keys on the hook while the sheriff is dozing’ shit, so many times! There is no way you would’ve put up with me, with this, with us and tell yourself that it’s not real now.”_

_“It’s **not** ,” she said hotly, her eyes stinging, and expected a scream, or a slap, something! Instead, all she got in return was a rugged sigh of… relief?_

_“Good. You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.” Gently, she pressed her lips against her forehead. “I can tell when you’re lying to yourself too, y’know.”_

_She jumped back, the maddening statement shocking her very core at Emma’s implication. “Christ, Swan, is that all you’re good for? Testing the state of our – whatever this is on hunches and nose-twitching or ear-scratching or whatever the hell you’re looking for?” The first tear fell down her cheek, and she struggled to move from Emma’s grasp. Her arms had not been getting the workout she was once accustomed to, without access to her garden. “You’re just perfect, aren’t you? Always sure of what you want, never second-guessing! Just follow your heart, right? It never lies! Not to you, anyway!”_

_Emma just held tighter, plainly ignoring her._

_“Maybe I should plead insanity and start consulting Hopper. He did wonders for my son; inspired him to leave the state to get away from me. And he found you, his Savior, everyone’s Savior! And that’s a title you say you want to **escape**? Well, tough **shit** dear, we stick with the names we’re given, and that’s a fate we can never break away from! … No matter how hard we try.” The last part was said in such a tear-strained muffle, and Emma could feel her heart physically break for her lover. The rest came out in a broken, tired drawl. “If the rest of the world sees me one way, and you see me as the exact opposite, how could I not consider you the crazy one in the end…?” She let the haunting question linger, and the Sheriff refrained to say the first thing that came to mind how she felt about everyone else’s opinions._

_“They don’t know you like I do. How I’ve known you for nearly two years. I’ve seen what they made you, and who you really are, despite all that.”_

_The brunette was already shaking her head against her bare chest, tentatively bringing her arms to wrap around her waist. “They don’t know, and they’ll never see anything else. You claim to know me, and you might to some extent, but that does not overshadow the things I’ve done, and what they’ve seen me do, what I’ve taken from them. You can tell me I’m lying to myself, but you’re clueless, Emma. This can’t be more. Eventually, they’ll realize that what they did to Rumple was working. They’ll transfer me, and wherever I go, you can’t follow.”_

_“Hey.” A light pressure worked against her chin, and despite her instincts, she tilted her head up to those same piercing eyes. “If you’re ready to give up, that’s cool. You’ve fought so long for your freedom, and they’re not giving you much of a say, anyway. But I’m the Savior, remember? I’m not allowed to give up. And I kinda want to keep going, too – not just because of my crush, of course – but for Henry, and for you, to apologize on my family’s behalf._

_“You should be in a therapist’s office,” she said evenly, prompting a look of disbelief from the prisoner. “Don’t look at me like that! You were being sarcastic, but you were right! You’ve killed people, Regina. That’s not something we can ignore. Hell, maybe I need a shrink, too! Maybe it doesn’t have to be Hopper, but you need to fucking **talk** to someone about shit like this. It’s not my business, but if you think it’s what makes you, and haunts you, then I’ll make it my business. Because that is the last time you’re going to try to scare me away.” Her glare softened, even in the focus of brown, narrowed eyes. “Yeah, I know what you were trying to do, because I know you. Just like you know that I don’t like being manipulated. See, I bet if you try some reverse-psychology, tell me how much you love me and can’t get away and you deserve more, and give that a run for a few years, you might get different results.”_

_The brunette dropped her head into the valley of Emma’s breasts again, huffing in irritation. “Now you’re manipulating me.” She leaned away, her hands still lingering on her shapely hips, her lips pinched. “There’s something I wanted to tell you, and I wasn’t quite sure how to articulate what I feel, until just now.”_

_“Oh?” She brought herself closer again. She wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon. “Those pesky feelings. I was never so good at that.”_

_“Your grandfather took something from me,” she started, and Emma pulled back, thoroughly mollified. Only then did Regina see the wetness on her cheeks, her reddening nose, she nearly gasped aloud at the thought that those tears were for her – always, for her. Stuttering slightly, she looked away and soldiered on, ignoring the pang of ‘the feelings’. “He took something I can never get back. He took everything from me. They say that sex is how women gain power. Well, ‘they’ – my mother. ‘Love is a weakness,’ she always told me. But sex has never been less than the most shameful thing I’ve ever experienced. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I’ve felt something… real, since Daniel. There were glimpses of what could’ve been, a lingering phantom of who I used to be, and that has been long forgotten. But you, Emma Swan… you make me feel… like I still have something left to give. And I want you to have it. But only if you can accept all of me, and all that might come with it.”_

_The room was silent – dead silence, a quiet she had become accustomed to in the past year – and for a brief moment, Regina thought the blonde had finally come to her senses… until she pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and the brunette tensed. “Shut the fuck up and accept my apology, for once in your life. God knows you didn’t get enough of that when you needed it the most. I know you don’t like being pitied. Tough shit. You can have whatever I give, too, and it’s not pity, it’s sympathy.”_

_She scoffed, but for once, said nothing. So, the Sheriff continued._

_“I made a deal a couple of days ago, and I was gonna wait a few more days to tell you this. You’re being released on house arrest at the end of the month, and you’ll be assigned a personal parole officer to check on you every single day – so expect a lot of sleepovers, and maybe free up a drawer. Henry can’t live with you yet, but I promise I’m working on it, and he can visit any time he wants, or whenever I drag his stubborn ass over._

_“I fought Mother Mayor really hard on this, so please stop telling me how much of a monster you are. Stop telling that to yourself. If you don’t believe in yourself, then I’m gonna have to try that much harder, and that’s gonna get really fucking annoying for you, isn’t it? You’ve put up a persona your entire life – I’m just asking you to burn those hats and put on this one. Just pretend to open your heart to those fools out there, and pretend to be the same person you are with Henry, and me. I don’t care if you never actually like them, that’s too much to ask. I could never ask for that. I just want you to pretend that you don’t hate them. It’s a process, right?”_

_“I… think that is agreeable.” It was more than agreeable. The people she actually hated in Storybrooke could be counted on one hand (two fingers, specifically) and the rest of the world didn’t deserve to see her so vulnerable. Emma chose her. The least she could do in return, was pretend she was someone Emma deserved. “Thank you, Sheriff.”_

_She groaned in annoyance, pulling back to reveal a teary smile. “I’m fucking you on a goddamn table in a goddamn jailhouse, Miss Mills. I’m hugging you in the buff, and by-the-by, your chin’s still wet, and I seriously can’t tell if it’s my drool, our tears or my lady-spunk. We are officially on a permanent first name basis, now. In fact – I think it’s time that I at least introduce you as my girlfriend to Henry.”_

_She blinked, her glistening jaw nearly falling from her face. “ **What?** ”_

_“What? You think he doesn’t know? I had a Valentine’s date with you, and he gave his approval when I dropped him back off. I sleep here all the time, at a station, a small building with shitty beds behind cold steel bars – he packed my toothbrush. And according to him, he’s never seen you happier in your life than when you’re inside your cell.”_

_“That’s because he visits! Does he understand that? That I’m happy to see him?”_

_“Yeah, he does. And then he asks how I’m treating you. Apparently, you make a hauntingly good impression of Dopey.”_

_“I…” she worked her mouth for something to say – any kind of witty retort, flooding out of her mind._

_The only thing she could think of, to get that stupid little grin off her smug face, was “How much we might adore each other, Emma Swan, is not something Henry should be aware of before me.”_

_She had made a grave miscalculation, and she discovered that when Emma’s grin widened. “Noted, lover.”_

_“I’m s-serious,” she stammered, her eyes going cross-eyed at the nearly kitten-like pout she showed in response. “He’s smart, but the townspeople will bumble upon us soon enough, and I don’t think you’ll want that. Please be more tactful.”_

_“You didn’t think I wanted you. You’re not in any position to tell me what I want.” Her eyes travelled up and down, and her goosebumps rose again. She licked her lips. “But we can fix that.”_

_Despite their heartfelt words, and her breathless promise, she protested one more time, just to see if she was capable of denying her love. “Stop it… Miss Swan.” She wasn’t._

_She leaned forward, and licked slowly up her chin, ending at her nose, and grinned at the taste of the moaning lips beneath. “Yes, dear.”_

* * *

“He’s _so_ going to get our baby a little sword.”

“Not if he wants to be limited to just seeing his grandson in a scrapbook. I still haven’t forgiven him for teaching Henry to drive, _my_ right. You have a family of thieves, Emma.” Her eyes shifted back to Snow White. “She makes a lovely ornament, don’t you think? She’s the fairest in all the land, so I’ve heard. I always knew she’d make the perfect porcelain statue, for a living.”

“She’s conscious, you know.” Regina turned to her spouse in surprise, and Emma grinned guiltily. “Every single word. She heard it all.”

“And _I’m_ the evil one?”

“Hey, I didn’t trademark it like you did. I was tactful in my villainy. You’ll never hear me complain about your leather ensembles, but it seems a bit too on the nose, wouldn’t you say?”

The brunette witch chuckled. “And the white hair and black eyes are ‘subtle’ to you? You should still reconsider the leather, at least for my benefit.”

Emma thought she was going to continue, but she didn’t, rather, her eyes were trained on her mother, the current mayor of Storybrooke.

“It’s so quiet,” she murmured, her eyes closing, tilting her head back. “So peaceful.”

“I can’t keep her like this forever.”

“I gave you a _child_ for Christmas. Give me a few hours.”

“I gave you the _world_.”

“We already have that. It was already ours.” She frowned minutely, slowly fluttering her eyes open, and focused on her beloved’s currently-green orbs. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted. Henry, our child, your very heart. All I could ever give in return was – ”

“This is usually the part where you step out of character and stop being the cocky, haughty queen-slash-mayor that I love, and start belittling yourself. My heart is as big as yours. You give as much love as I do; more, even. And I’m pretty damn sure Henry and our baby, wouldn’t – _couldn’t_ be here without you. We’re _partners_ , ‘Gina; you’re my lawfully wedded wife, and my soulmate. I don’t need a _Charming_ speech just to tell you that, but if you need one, every day for the rest of our lives for me to remind you, then I’ll _gladly_ – ”

“I don’t,” she whispered, her grin contagious. “But I thank you for the offer. My incredible, overly preachy wife.”

“Are you sure? I’m good at them.”

“Positive. Save them for bedtime stories.”

“Last I checked, you like falling asleep to the sound of my voice.”

“Only when you put that echo on it. That sense of power behind it – it’s subtle. _Arousing_.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She blinked a few times, while Regina smiled innocently. They stared at each other for an embarrassing amount of time, before Emma finally accepted that her wife would gladly keep this going for days, and that was no exaggeration. “Don’t you think we’ve stalled long enough?”

“Oh, _fine_. Do it.”

“ _Gah!_ ” Snow sputtered, heaving in a lungful of air. “I – Oh, God, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Emma – I’m _sorry_ , Regina! I didn’t know – !”

“About which part?” Regina interrupted, tilting her head. “Do you even know what you’re apologizing for? Pregnancy isn’t a disease, Mary Margaret.”

“I…” she sputtered, yet again, fumbling with her fingers. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have been happy for you. I’m sorry for what I just said. I should… I should shut up, once in a while. I didn’t know David felt that way. I apologize, Regina. _Sincerely_.”

Regina glanced to her partner, who shrugged. “She believes it,” the blonde whispered quietly, and tepidly, that was enough.

“Very well.” The pregnant brunette chuckled. “It’s funny – babies have a tendency to bring families together or split them apart. My sister could tell you one story, and I now have my own.”

“Does raping your ‘soulmate’ count as having a family in the first place?”

“Either way, it was torn apart. Regardless, old wounds opened this past week, and we’ve just spent a few hours scab-picking. We can go back and forth on blame, for past mistakes and decisions. Some things, I don’t think I can ever fully forgive you for, just like there are plenty of things I’ve done, that you, or anyone else _or even I_ , can ever forgive me for. We all claim to have our reasons, reasons that leave us unable to apologize for our actions. Frankly, for what I’ve done, I’m blessed to have _anything_ , much less everything I have. Despite everything, the things I’ve done, I got my happy ending.”

Snow White kept her eyes on the table. “I really am happy for you. I just want to support you. You’re far beyond ever needing me, especially as a mother, but… I just want to be there for you. As a friend.”

Emma pursed her lips. “What do you think?”

“My demons do not disappear overnight. I’ve wanted you to suffer for fifty years. The best I can do, today, is make you promise not to make a speech at our baby shower.”

She gasped.

“I know you were already writing one in that fair head of yours. I won’t have it, and that’s non-negotiable.”

“I… alright.” She paused awkwardly. “Could you please pass me the gravy? And maybe a glass? I need to… decompress, for a minute.”

It would take significantly longer, but it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Next chapter Teaser:  
>  “…Hey, let’s talk about **Neal!** ”_
> 
> A Big Thanks to everyone who bothered to review the last chapter: MiDushiNoSushi, baratta.jennifer, Sammii16, ForeverRegalBeliever, and the several guests that took the time to show their appreciation! I really cherish each and every review I get, so please tell me what you think of the story, because no feedback=no interest. (lookin at you, AO3. 0 Reviews. My disappointment is immeasurable, and my day is ruined.)  
> Don’t know what to write if no one tells me what they like (or don’t like. Criticism is also tolerated!)


	4. A Queen's Bounty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grievances aside, Mary Margaret is adjusting to the new reality of her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my Patrons, who probably don’t read any of my OUAT stories, but still support me for some reason (and won’t even see this dedi, but I’m contractually obligated) – Joseph P Hawley, Alexander S, and AtomicStryker!
> 
> Having a little fun in this chapter, and the last chapter in the series of putting Snow White in the dunce cap (but I’ll point you to where you can find more! I can guarantee some of you haven’t read it yet).
> 
> (Slight NSFW-ness.)

“I don’t mean to be – too intrusive,” Mary Margaret started gently, and Emma almost groaned in frustration. “Sorry. Can you blame me for having questions? You really don’t have to answer them.”

“I don’t blame you for having questions. I blame myself for keeping everything a secret, anyway.” She shook her head, leaning back in the opposite chair. “It didn’t have to be like this. Our son nearly missed our wedding, because of my paranoia. We eloped. Fortunately, we underestimated my power, and it worked well enough outside of Storybrooke.”

“Yeah,” she whispered quietly. “The whole family was there, huh? The wedding you’ve always wanted?”

“Ruby, Belle, Tink, Roni, Jen, Jinny, Mulan, Aurora, Ingrid, Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Mal, Lily, Ella, Sean, and, of course, Henry.” She chuckled. “Hell of a family. Or lack of. Depends on your perspective.”

“You transported _all of them_ with your magic?”

“Yeah. Sent out renewed invitations, through mirrors. Oh – Sidney was there, too.”

“You know, nearly half that list has tried to kill you, at some point.”

“I know, right? Mal still tries, on occasion. Well, she tries to give me reasons to kill her. Pain in the ass, sometimes.”

“But you’ve forgiven them all? Enough to have them at your wedding?”

Emma frowned, not completely blind to what her mother was inferring. “It’s not that simple, Snow.”

“I’d love to understand,” she sniffed. “I don’t mean to sound… petty, or entitled or anything, but I just don’t get how you managed to hide this entire other life. I thought we hung out a lot – you were my roommate once, for God’s sakes. Is this a magic thing? Another memory curse?”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Also, not that simple.”

“I didn’t think that would be simple. But I don’t have magic, so…”

“Sorry to say, but I didn’t need my magic to keep it all a secret from you.” She shrugged indifferently, as if she had nothing further to say, but Snow White was predictably stubborn.

“I should have noticed when you fought so hard to get her out of jail, and into house arrest.” In another life – a stubborn, ignorant life, a _simpler_ life – she would have laughed at the absurdity of the thought.

“I would have, anyway. The fact that she was in jail and Gold wasn’t, sickened me.” She looked around, green eyes roaming over the spacious office that had been an environment for many forbidden fantasies back in the day, but it was clearly a new atmosphere, and she didn’t yet feel comfortable. Ironic, considering the room was now designed to epitomize comfort, going by the bird portraits.

“So… was Hook a lie? This whole time?”

“Killian?” She looked legitimately confused, and Mary Margaret began to question everything she ever knew. _Again_. “There’s not even a story there. I don’t know what he’s told you, but he was being a terrible flirt, and a worse human being, and I shut him down. _Every time_.”

“B-but…” she faltered. “Regina told me…”

“Oh.” she frowned. “Oh yeah. That. Completely forgot. Perhaps that part does warrant an explanation. Remember when – ? Oh, no, I guess you wouldn’t. Anyway, it was when I lost your ring, before you even had it. Time travel is a mess, sometimes.”

* * *

_**The Day Snow White and Prince Charming Met  
-REDUX-** _

_“Sorry, luv, you lost me.”_

_“I’m not surprised,” the brunette drawled, as they walked along the trail that would eventually lead to her castle. “It’s quite simple. Pretend to be Emma’s date.”_

_“I feel like I should have a say in this,” Emma muttered, but was otherwise left ignored._

_“If there’s anyone I know better than myself, it’s the Evil Queen,” she continued, as they trekked along. “And if there’s anything I know about the Evil Queen, it’s that **you** , Emma, will have her attention. When you show up to the ball tonight, you two must be partners. Prince Solo and Princess…?”_

_“Leia,” Emma supplied, frowning curiously. “Eighteen years of silence, and you managed to avoid one of the greatest trilogies of all time. Unbelievable.”_

_“Leia,” she reiterated, not breaking her stride, “and I’ll be in my – her room, retrieving Charming’s ring. I’d know exactly where I’d put it, and what protections I would use.”_

_“So, I’m meant to distract her somewhere in this charade?”_

_“No, Pirate. Emma’s meant to distract her. You’re meant to be the obstacle in her way.”_

_Killian stopped, aghast. “So your plan is – she’s going to kill me?! I know you don’t trust me to pinch the ring meself – ”_

_“ – I would, I just wouldn’t trust you to bring it back – ”_

_“ – Luv, I can take a rejection, I’m not going to stop the lass from being **born**.”_

_She scoffed at the Pirate’s hypocrisy. “I’ll make note of today’s allegiance. Of course she wouldn’t kill you, not yet. The public beheadings are tomorrow, and she wouldn’t ruin her appetite.”_

_“Uhuh,” Emma muttered, not convinced about this entire ‘plan’, “but you’re telling me she has time for a little blonde snack? This is the most fucked up way to tell me that your lust for me knows literally no bounds.”_

_“Point being,” Regina continued, her fist covering her mouth, “you, Pirate, will be going to a holding cell, and I’ll break you out tonight, and I’ll break **you** out, Emma, in the morning.”_

_“Wait, you’re planning on letting her …? – **NO!** What the **FUCK? NO!”**_

_If she was surprised about the reaction, she did an incredible job of hiding it. “We’ve talked about this. I’m finally presenting you with the opportunity. Besides, I don’t think you hate the idea as much as you should, or even want to.”_

_The Pirate lifted a well-manicured eyebrow. “I knew there was something about you, Swan. A risktaker, are we?”_

_“Regina, are you out of your fucking mind? You expect **me** to seduce the **Evil Queen** , as someone who isn’t even a blip on her gaydar and, at this point in life, is at the **peak** of her ‘Eliminate Snow White and Everyone Close to Her’ phase?”_

_“You shouldn’t go in advertising your family ties, but I expect you to be fine otherwise. Trust me, Emma, she wouldn’t touch a hair on your pretty blond head, unless you begged for it.”_

_Emma grabbed Regina’s arm, forcing her to stop walking, prompting Killian to walk ahead, muttering about dizzy birds or – something. “For all my speeches about you two being different people, you’re just gonna ignore all that? I was nothing special to you when we met, remember? What’s so different about it now?”_

_“That’s not entirely true. You’ve always had my attention, and you’ve always had my eye. Remember what I told you what my plan was if you hadn’t rejected my good-bye gift? I don’t… entirely remember this night, and some of it is coming back to me. I am very confident that I’m not throwing you into the Snake Pit, not a single part of me can believe that she would kill you. Have some faith, Darling.”_

_Emma gave her an exasperated look, and Regina smiled back innocently; an odd contrast to the norm._

_Falling into Zelena’s portal was… not her brightest moment._

_Two weeks. **Two fucking weeks** after she brought Regina home, after a nearly year-long search. Two weeks, and here they were, the farthest they could’ve been from home, and Henry, they could get._

_Also, she could cease to exist at any moment. So that was cool._

_Emma and Regina, their powers combined, could take them back to Storybrooke. Maybe. She was nervous about it, and she wasn’t ready for another mindless world-jumping adventure. But before they could do anything, they had to get the ring that started the life between Snow and Charming; namely, **Emma’s** life._

_Her fingers fiddled with the gleaming band in her pocket, suddenly reminded of why she got here to begin with. Fuck it, she’d go along with Regina – she made that decision ever since she got the ring. If she managed to get a positive answer from her after all of this, or even **exist** after all of this, then it would truly be a miracle._

_So she had to believe that her beloved knew what she was doing. She had to trust her, and she, for the love of God, had to know something that she didn’t. “I know you believe that,” Emma told her, her eyes searching. “How do you **know** that?”_

_Her partner looked guilty, even as she stood straight. “Because, Emma Swan; I’ve been waiting for you all my life. I just didn’t know that until tonight.” She grabbed her wrist suddenly, and muttered, “But I suppose we can’t risk it. Hold still._

_“…How do you feel about tattoos?”_

* * *

Emma showed her mother the tattoo of the lion’s mane on her wrist, the black shining off her sun-kissed skin, before it retreated up her arm, into her sleeve and beyond. “It’s a game she likes to play sometimes,” Emma whispered, and her mischievous eyes told her that she didn’t want to know any further details about their ‘games’. “And now you know the story of my tattoo. I only told you I was drunk – you know what, I might’ve been; they don’t make mead like they used to, _that’s_ for damn sure.”

Snow didn’t quite understand the significance of the mark, but she imagined there was some importance. She tilted her head. “So, you and Killian…”

“Curtsied and danced for all of a song and a half together, until the Evil Queen waded her way over. Damn near roasted him on the spot, the captivating charmer he is. It was pretty wild that she even let me speak, let alone be convinced otherwise. I guess she saw something familiar in me.”

“This is _insane_. You were at the mercy of the Evil Queen – the _real_ Evil Queen? You’re telling me that even when her heart was at its blackest, she saw True Love in you?”

“True Love? I’m not sure about that. That night, while I was bargaining with my life, love for her was furthest from my mind. They had the same face, same mannerisms, but they weren’t the same, y’know? I already had a true love, no identity crisis to speak of. Her, on the other hand…”

* * *

_Regina rubbed tiredly at her head, a temporary moment of dizziness suddenly assaulting her. Blinking tiredly, she took a moment to compose herself. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was a side-effect of her nostalgic musings, but it was a rush she wasn’t prepared for._

_Still, she stood by the door of the Queen’s private chambers and began to wait. She and Emma had arranged to meet early, before they could even retrieve the pirate, in order to deal with… whatever the hell was on the other side of that door._

_She was planning on hiding in the wardrobe after recovering the ring, and waiting for the Queen and Emma. It wasn’t a complex plan, but it was simple, as the only protection she really had to her room was Sidney – the first Genie, who was still ordered to follow **Regina’s** commands through the mirror, Evil Queen or not, of any realm. She – or her younger self – wouldn’t have checked further than her all-seeing servant for any hidden presence._

_That was the plan, anyway. Unfortunately, the door was already locked by the time she could reach the room, and that meant it was occupied._

_Either Rumple was waiting to make a dramatic entrance, pranking her by locking her out of her own room, or ‘Her Regalness’ was inside. Whether or not she had a guest in her bedchambers, remained to be seen. Soundproof as her room was, she couldn’t hear a thing, and likely wouldn’t until the morning._

_She knew that if she reached out with her magic, she could find Emma easily – that was how she was able to sense her panic all the way from the Clocktower to the empty barn, where Zelena’s portal was waiting for the Savior._

_Emma’s cell phone lay on the ground, discarded, and before she could even think about it, she scooped it up and ran forward before the portal could disappear._

_It was a very distressing twelve hours, and she didn’t mind another six, if only to process everything that happened._

_So, of course, no questions asked, she left, destination already in mind, and returned in the morning. The pirate would be probably be fine, probably, and the burgeoning witch was more than capable of defending herself, or at least alerting anyone… not that she would need to._

_Emma Swan didn’t have any idea how much she was looking forward to seeing them together. The Evil Queen, at her worst, in the worst time, against her worst enemy._

_It was nothing for her to seem excited about, truth be told. Absolutely nothing about her analysis told her that she shouldn’t be worried about the woman she loved, and her fate against the woman she once was, and **hated**._

_Except… she was remembering. She was remembering what happened on this night. Not what happened, or what they did, but as shivers went up and down her very being every time she tried to recall the memory, she couldn’t see what could have possibly…._

**_“Enter.”_ **

_The familiar sound of her own echoed behind the tall double doors. The polished Applewood slowly swung open, magic of course; a trick so simple Regina considered it mundane, even then._

_What stood at the foot of the bed, however – or in this case, kneeled – was a form of witchcraft that briefly made her think she was hallucinating._

_“Emma? What… what the hell?”_

_She glanced over at her pet, and back to her girlfriend. “Too much?”_

_“You cut your hair?”_

_“No one gave you permission to speak,” she chastised with a subtle, terribly arousing gaze, before grinning shyly at Regina – her Regina. “You know… I had all night to figure out how to explain this… I got nothin’.”_

_The brunette – the one standing, and fully clothed – was lost, unsure, looking absolutely nothing like the long-haired doppelganger before her. If anything, in her kneeling position, she looked proud, if not a bit chastised for her earlier ‘outburst’._

_She forced herself to step forward, enough for the doors to close behind her, and lock itself quite loudly in the quiet room. It wasn’t her nudity that bothered her – honestly, that’s what she was expecting, when her plan had come to form. She had wanted Emma to enjoy herself, to explore a taboo that she just wasn’t willing to play a role in – the seduction and ravishing of the ‘Evil Queen’, a character she didn’t want to dip into in case she got **too** comfortable. The vague memories of pleasure she felt associated with that hazy night only confirmed that she enjoyed it far more than she should have, probably._

_She wasn’t even bothered by the lack of submission on Emma’s part, but when she had the idea in mind, there was a definite vision she had anticipated, **hotly** anticipated, and this was the **exact opposite** of that._

_Not that she wasn’t aroused at this new possibility. Or, rather, reality._

_“Be good, my little Queen,” she lovingly murmured, patting her kneeling Majesty on the head, right on what used to be a crown and an ornate bun. Instead, her black hair fell in messy rivulets down her back, right above her pale wide hips, and being as close as she was, Regina was pleased to note that her hair seemed to be the only physical difference to have occurred in the past several decades – if anything, she was more fit from her more active lifestyle. Her younger self actually preened at Emma’s patronizing touch._

_“Emma,” she whispered, forcing her jaw into moving. “How did this happen?”_

_“I followed your plan,” she responded, as if it was obvious how the two were related. “I lived out one of my biggest fantasies. You were willing to play along.”_

_“She told me everything,” the kneeling, naked Queen told her – after looking to her Mistress for permission, apparently. “She told me about our son, and our time together. She gave me her heart; literally handed it over. She was willing to submit, and give me everything, under the caveat that I give her back to you in the morning.”_

_“She had a different idea in mind.”_

_“Frankly, it started as an attempt to keep you here,” she whispered, before chuckling darkly; at least that hadn’t changed. “I was willing to ruin my future for a present with you.”_

_“It might be working. I’m tempted to take you to the future with us, but that would fuck up reality as we know it.” She sent Regina an apologetic smile. “Sorry, baby. She suggested it. I promise you had fun.”_

_She did not remember this moment, so she had to take Emma’s word for it. Clearly, a memory potion was taken after all of this._

_But… the pure emotion she felt from that night remained, didn’t it? She felt the need to shiver again, and full-body chills wracked her frame at Emma’s hungry gaze, and even her own resting fucked-drunk face reflected at her. She didn’t know she looked that **stunning** in the afterglow – no wonder Emma was so insatiable._

_“Emma, don’t apologize. Especially if it was my idea. Though I should question your ‘all in’ strategy; I specifically told you to never give anyone your heart, not even **me**. I just… didn’t think I had a submissive slave kink, especially with my past.”_

_The leap in logic was an obvious one, and she knew what the Queen would say next, but it was still an out-of-body experience as she heard it first-hand. “She gave me her heart willingly. You and I both know that’s never happened to us before. She bent me over with her heart still in my grasp, and I realized that I was still in control. I could stop her, I could **kill** her if I wanted. She told me that she once put an inhibitor cuff on you. It’s something I would never do, for anyone. I’m not even sure I would have given even… him… But with Emma… she made me feel like I’d never had such power before.” She rolled her neck, adjusting her knees on the lush purple carpet. Far from the regalness her mother had instilled to her, she looked so utterly relaxed and sated, and she was reminded once of Emma calmly bragging at how good she was as a Savior, the way she managed to always give her a ‘happy ending’. “Her advanced knowledge of my body certainly helped. You trained her well. Never have I felt so relaxed, and – ”_

_” – And so sore, in all the right places.” Regina finished, having that exact thought so many times in her most intimate moments with her voracious girlfriend, but never having the shame to say it aloud. “It was a rare bout of ‘training’ I could rarely keep up in.”_

_Emma flushed at the praise from the two women, the perfect ‘before and after’ picture of her hottest dreams. She pondered to herself, spying her lover’s nervous grin. Emma usually took the lead in the bedroom, anyway, having the most experience with normal relationships (a grand total of one) – she could only imagine her taking it further, testing the boundaries, and her younger self, even more inexperienced as she was with anyone (much less with someone who loved her), didn’t want to say no. “As long as you enjoyed yourself, Emma. Perhaps we might do this again, sometime. She seems to be looking forward to it. Though I wonder if I’ll be taking any scars back with me.” She quirked her lips, brown eyes seeking out her own. “I bet the little slut enjoyed it, too.”_

_She doubted they would have this chance again. Emma worked in extremes, always, and that was one of the many reasons she loved her. If she ever had a doubt that she could survive a night with the Evil Queen, that was soundly answered. The only way she **could** respond is to give in to her wishes, for one morning._

_Emma licked her lips, giving her a smoldering look. No silent communication needed – she was into whatever happened next. “….You know… we don’t have to leave **right** now, right now.”_

_Her (apparent) pet leaned forward, jumping on the opportunity. Regina was more transfixed on her own breasts swaying from the movement; for all of her doubts of self-worth through her rise to the Evil Queen, she had **never** suffered from a shortage of self-body positivity. “I agree, Mistress,” she purred, excitement dripping from her tongue to mingle with Emma’s fluids. “I’m not due for the execution for a few hours. Might I entertain you **both** for the rest of your stay?”_

_Regina shivered, and began to see the truth in Emma’s words. She had never been more turned on in her life, and that was saying something._

_With a flourish, her clothes were magicked off of her, and her mouth was captured by her blonde princess, while her younger self marveled at her shaved pubis, reaching forward and_

A sharp intake of breath brought Emma back to the present. “ _Christ_. I think I get it, Emma! Please stop. I don’t think I can take anymore.”

She chuckled. Sometimes, her mouth went faster than her mind, and that was more an _Emma_ thing than a _Dark One_ thing. “Not to make you _too_ uncomfortable, but I think she said that same comment, nearly verbatim. I forget which one, they’re stunningly similar in the buff…”

“So she remembered you?” Snow interrupted again, _desperate_ to change topics, desperate to get the idea of her _submissive stepmother_ out of her mind. “I ended up remembering you as Leia, when you came back.”

“Yeah… you could say that she remembered _some_ things I said that night, but it was all a blur for her, kinda. Closest we could get to not causing a paradox, or messing up too much of the past. It was a great night, but I try not to think too much about the implications. One positive change through all of this – The Huntsman never became Sheriff Graham. I told her before we left that he was pretty much useless after he failed to capture Snow White, so… paradox rules, she probably killed him to maintain balance; just like Maid Marian. Can’t think too hard about it, it’s the past, and it happened. But I can only hope I made the future easier for someone.”

_“Oh, you certainly did, darling.”_

Snow should have been used to the purple cloud that dropped like a heavy fog in her office, but it still made her jump, every time. Even when they arranged a predetermined landing zone.

And even though their ‘war’ had reached a truce, she didn’t delude herself that if she were to do anything to change Regina’s mind, she could be dead in a matter of _seconds_. Or worse.

Still, she kept on a brave face. She was still Snow White, and she thought she was fearless, but knowing everything she knew now, her vulnerabilities somehow made her even more intimidating. “Regina. Good morning. How are you feeling?”

She wore no makeup and a red fluffy bathrobe this time, and had red slippers to match. She must have gotten a full set after deciding that this was going to be her pregnancy uniform. Clearly, it was comfy, because she was _glowing_ , and her wife grinned at her, adorably. Snow White didn’t think she and Charming were that bad, even in _private_. “I’ve had my morning coffee, and weaning off of it is more of an adventure than I anticipated, but I like a good challenge.”

“I swear, you thought she was evil during the day? She’s worse in the morning. Especially on decaf.”

“That’s not coffee. It’s hot brown piss.” She said it as delicately as she could, with a playful grin. “I suppose Emma told you that we’ve decided to postpone the baby announcement. We need to sweep the town, get everyone properly registered; a file and identification for the town bio and their true selves. Storybrooke needs baby-proofing; no more surprises. No wicked midwives, no evil potions involving a pure heart as an ingredient, and no thirty-year old time-travelers looking to murder their parents. To start.”

Emma bit her lip. “I don’t think you’re going to like today.”

“… You did it again, didn’t you?”

“Sometimes, I can’t help it. I have to actively stop myself from getting these visions at times. Hell, if you want, we can do a gender reveal party today.”

“One; How dare you. Two; _How dare you_. And three; intentional or not, your ominous message has already ruined my day. Just tell me if I should stay in.”

“If it was dangerous, I wouldn’t have told you; I would’ve just gotten rid of the threat. You’re safe, physically. And mentally.”

“So, you’re proposing that my _mood swings_ into full effect?” She paused, considering. “It’s been around nine weeks, that seems just about time. From what I read, I’m surprised it wasn’t sooner.”

“Considering the stress of the past four years, pregnancy stress is a very welcome change of pace. I’ve been doing some research, by the way.” She conjured a large, comfy purple two-seat recliner beneath her, and Regina graciously took a seat, cuddling close, while Mary Margaret leaned forward on her desk. “Poofing is a _nono_. Magic in general, no matter how small, is stressful for the core, and may cause lightheadedness, as our little one is feeding off your magic. Whether they learn to embrace said magic is to be seen.”

“How did you find a book on pregnant witch tips?” Snow asked, and Regina quickly shut her mouth, still hesitant to share the same thoughts with her former arch-rival on anything. “Could it be that common?”

Emma raised an eyebrow, biting the insides of her cheeks. “Care to rephrase that?”

Snow blushed; she didn’t mean to make it sound like no one wanted to get a witch pregnant (though she suspected that most were impregnated by mistake or under false pretenses) – “Oh! Um… witches. _Witches_ can’t be that common, to have a widely published book. Do they?”

“Good save. Yeah, one of the Dark Ones of the past wrote a book about it, and yes, she published it. Cora has a copy.”

“Of course she does,” Regina drawled. “So no magic. Anything else to bring me down?” She sounded disappointed, but the (current) mayor could tell that she was genuinely curious – and in fact, eager to glean as much information as she could. In fact, she saw her hand absently rub her burgeoning belly, the next generation of White ( _‘Swan!’_ She corrected herself, _‘Mills’_ coming in as a belated thought, and far too quietly to register), growing into her life before her eyes, a little bit every day. She wasn’t exactly sure when she would be allowed to acknowledge the baby bump itself, without fear of a fireball coming her way.

“Coffee’s alright – in moderation, of course. God knows I needed the caffeine to get through my term in prison. Let’s see… witch-specific? Wear a respirator mask when brewing any potions, and of course, don’t inhale or ingest any body altering mixes – side-effects may occur to the baby. I’d steer away from any digestible concoctions altogether, Unless it’s a magic-replenishing potion, which I’ll have triple stocked – which we really should have had from day one, anyway – and keep one on your belt if you decide to use any magic. I’ll keep one on your nightstand. Magical salves are okay, but it goes without saying you shouldn’t lie on your front during application. Or at all, really, but I’ll try some things with the mattress. TBD.”

“Did Mal have to go through all of this?”

“No. She became a dragon to pass the time. Not to mention, her egg was hard-shelled and basketball-sized. I don’t think you want to go through that, human or not.”

“Yes, that doesn’t seem ideal for my freshly-repaired uterus. Would you like to tell Lily our news first, or Ruby?”

“Lily. If Ruby finds out too soon, she’d start planning the shower. After the alleged bachelorette party aftermath, she does _not_ need to plan _anything_ of ours for the next few months.”

“Why? Afraid you might actually get an accidental harem this time?”

“ _Afraid_ isn’t the right word, baby. And it’s _our_ harem, thank you.”

Regina let out a rich laugh, and Mary Margaret was left utterly confused.

It was a feeling she was not getting used to, even though she was hearing it so many times, for the very first time, these past several weeks.

“Back to Killian,” Snow tentatively started. “So, you two were never in a relationship after that venture? So why did you tell me…?”

“Emma was ‘single’. Hook was ‘single’, and evil. I was ‘single’, and evil. Robin Hood was ‘single’. We managed to find the perfect little arrangement to account for my rehabilitation, and Emma’s suspicious constant presence in my home. We spent more time together, and you all made your assumptions. Figure it out from there.” Regina grimaced. “Fair is fair, since we’ve been outed, but I would appreciate if you kept this secret. For a change.”

“Wait.” Her head was starting to hurt – again. “Robin and… Killian?”

Emma snapped her fingers. “I knew I was forgetting someone!”

“Never invite your exes to your wedding,” Regina gently admonished. “Even if they were playing pretend.”

“I feel bad,” Emma continued, pouting. “They probably could’ve helped us gather everyone, too – we were beachside! More or less, that’s a straight shot – we share the same ocean! We could’ve had a cruise ship wedding! Why am I just thinking about this?”

“Truly unfortunate,” Regina drawled, amused at Emma’s revelation. “But there’s no amount of magic that can photoshop that scurvy-ridden boat out of our wedding pictures.”

“We should make it up to them by not going to their wedding.”

“The sacrifices that must be made. I’d get seasick anyway, now that I’m eating for two…”

“Wait – they’re getting _married_?”

“I do believe we said that already.” She didn’t sound annoyed, only amused, which was a major improvement. Snow didn’t mind playful teasing. “On the _Jolly Roger_ , if you can believe that. I know I can. I bet he’s trying to make the boat jealous.”

Still, she was stunned by the news. “When the heck did they start dating?”

“Hell if I know,” Emma shrugged. “I’m near-omniscient, not nosy. Probably sometime after my sister-in-law’s plan backfired to an incredible degree.”

“For all of our family tragedies, it makes the comedies so much more satisfying.”

* * *

_The Wicked Witch of the West stood there on the front doorstep, grinning imperiously as her mirage faded away. Robin was stuck there, with a look of anger, and sadness._

_Regina didn’t know if she should grin or laugh, but felt that it would be insensitive to the man who had just found out that his wife was dead – **again**._

_She settled on grinning. “You truly imagined I wouldn’t kill my pregnant sister? I don’t think you understand how tame “Wicked”_ _is to **Evil**.”_

_“Regina, don’t! That’s still my child!”_

_She waved her hand, and Robin of Locksley was frozen in place, helpless. “Sorry, **honey** ; this is a family matter.”_

_“You wouldn’t kill me,” she grinned happily, her green skin practically glowing with joy. Even as she glanced over at the state of her frozen ‘husband’, she didn’t worry too much. “Not with your true love’s spawn in me. He would never forgive you.” She simpered, smiling brightly. “All that hard work you’ve done for your ‘friends’. All that drivel to the savior about your changed ways…if you touch me, then it’s all over, Regina. **I win.** ”_

_She paused, lowering her hand. “Oh poo, why didn’t I think of that?” Her hand rose again, freshly ignited, brighter than ever. “I guess I’ll be sleeping on the couch, then.”_

_The redhead blinked rapidly at her approaching sister, stumbling back in the hallway of Neal’s old apartment, and Regina grinned, stalking closer. She could already feel the heat on her skin, and she recoiled in true fear. “What is_ _**wrong** with you? Are you **crazy**?”_

_“No, dear, I’m **Evil** ; we’ve discussed this. If I gave a damn what my soulmate thinks, you might have a reason to live for a few more months. Fortunately, my true love won’t have a problem with what I’m about to do to you.”_

_“B-but I – he – ”_

_“Yes, yes, I know where the confusion may come from. Turns out, there’s a difference. You put the cart before the horse, dear. You hate_ _**me** so much, you got knocked up by my beard! Or maybe you didn’t? Maybe it happened that night you shared him with the Pirate? Yes, he told me about that night. ‘Two birds with one stone’, you must’ve thought! Revenge on your sister **and** the savior with one fatal blow, or bang, or blow-bang, or whatever you three got up to. How **pathetic** is that? How pathetic are **you**?”_

_“Your beard? What? You mean… I- I don’t – ?”_

_Emma grinned from behind the Wicked Witch, slipping the leather cuff around her wrist. “And **that’s** … why I like to keep things.”_

_“Smartass.”_

_“I try.”_

_“Wha – how the hell did you get in my apartment?!”_

_Emma rolled her eyes. “I poofed, moron. You can do it too, can’t you?”_

_Her girlfriend scoffed. “Not anymore.”_

_“And I’m the smartass?”_

_Regina shrugged, a coy little grin on her face, and Zelena stuttered._

_“Y-you two… it’s YOU TWO!” She pointed an accusatory, glittery green finger, her wicked gaze sharp and clear. “You tricked me! You’ve been with **Swan** this whole time?!”_

_The former Queen blinked. “Shit. What gave it away?”_

_The blonde rolled her eyes. “I don’t know; that thousand-watt smile might’ve been a clue.”_

_“Bullshit. I’m not even showing any teeth.”_

_“The eyes give it away, I think. She’s not even looking at me, ‘Gina. You know what that smile does to me, but it makes everyone else sus as hell.” She shook her head, grabbing her captive by the shoulder. The now-powerless witch was much too shocked to force the hand off. “I’d put you in jail, but that hits a little too close to home, present situation standing. Congrats, by the way. So, we’ll just leave you be. Robin might take care of you, or at least he might not press charges, but since you killed his wife, I wouldn’t bet on it. I suggest hiring a midwife, but they’ve been getting a pretty bad rep lately. Oh, and – if you blab one word about us, I swear we’re gonna… gonna…” she trailed off, watching the transformation before her eyes._

_The wicked witch found herself transforming once again, and this time, she didn’t know why. She groaned, scratching wildly at her skin, until she raised her cuffed hand, and choked out a gasp._

_The green, scaly complexion faded, leaving fair, white skin and freckles behind._

_Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she fainted._

* * *

“What if I wore a cuff?” Regina wondered aloud, and Emma gave her a curious look. “For the baby. I don’t want to use any magic. I won’t risk anything stupid for our child. What with impending mood swings and hunger cravings; the temptation might be too much.”

Emma frowned. “I’ll be able to get anything you need anyway. I wouldn’t let you lift a finger, regardless.”

“I already know you’re perfect, darling. I’m referring to my own imperfect impulses.”

“I… I guess we can. A-as a precaution. But – I’m giving you one that you can take off, freely. You are _never_ going to be that helpless again.”

As Regina sat back in the recliner, her head on Emma’s shoulder and her feet up, she pondered. “I’m thankful for your worry. But that defeats the purpose of a mood swing. How about we make it in a way that I need another person’s help to open the cuff? In case you’re busy or something happens to you.”

“Your faith in me is outstanding,” she noted airily. “Anyone in mind you want to key it to? Henry?”

“No; anyone I can get my hands on. You’d be surprised how many people there are that aren’t willing to help me, and that’s what I’m counting on.”

“Do you think a pardon would help with that?” Both witches turned to the mayor, and she struggled not to fidget under their stare. “I’ve been thinking about it – before you married, even. A ceremony, maybe? You can make your news, then. Or… however many clueless fools left who wasn’t in on all of this.” She grinned guiltily, and though it was a self-deprecating dig, it was well-earned, and still kinda haunting that all of this had happened under her nose, but she was coping.

Emma slowly blinked, turning to her wife. “I don’t hate it. You?”

“…That’s acceptable. No; that’s more than acceptable. That’s exactly what we need.” The more she turned the thought over in her head, the more she began to see the wisdom in a public pardon. Though she was equally involved in the safety of Storybrooke several times, she was hardly known as the Savior her wife was recognized as, even after becoming the new Dark One (and it honestly blew her mind, at some level, that the town chose to treat her the same, even after Emma’s alteration). “Thank you for the olive branch.”

Mary Margaret grinned, and for the first time in over half a century, Snow White and Regina shared a smile in each other’s presence.

“You know I could literally freeze hell over. Release the four horsemen. Give wings to pigs. And this would still be the most unbelievable thing I’ve ever witnessed.” She fake-wiped a tear away. “Though it _is_ hilarious that you start to connect with her, _after_ she becomes your mother-in-law.”

Regina tried to slip back into her familiar grimace, failing miserably. “You’re ruining the moment, dear.”

“In my mind, I’ve already taken pictures from twelve different angles. This will be a hell of a VR Experience for Henry. Top five moments in my immortal life.”

She rolled her eyes. “So dramatic. Our adventures, troubles and resolutions should not be dissected into Buzzfeed lists.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re in all five. Hell, top twenty-five. You’re involved tangentially in at least forty of my top fifty.”

“Wait – do you have an actual, physical list?” It was Mary Margaret who asked, and Regina was still debating whether or not to admit that the same question was on her lips.

“No, of course not. I’m just organized, is all.”

Her pregnant wife scoffed in disbelief. “Your side of the bed would disagree.”

“I don’t fret the little things. I just don’t see the point of it; if the covers aren’t pulled back, then I just lay on the covers – at this point, I’m just happy it’s not a car seat. _And_ – not to quote another queen, but you’ve been to Boston – I grew up around cold weather. Not affected so much.”

“You’re not a lazy woman, Emma.” She said it in a light tone, and they both knew that if she was truly upset with the blonde’s habits, she would have corrected it. In Emma’s humble opinion, she found that it was one of those things normal couples complain about, seeing as she was the Dark Savior, and didn’t have many normal problems. The nitpicks – the little things they clung to, that reminded them of simpler times – were all they had on each other.

Because to one another, they were perfect. Full context, they probably were. Emma was both The Ultimate Dark One and The Savior, the Ibushi and Omega, and her knowledge, experience and power were unrivaled. Regina was a former Evil Queen turned good, one of the only people in history to conquer the full darkness in her heart, and possibly the only other person ever to be capable of light _and_ dark magic, let alone the first to _master_ each power.

Together, they were true loves, and princesses of light and darkness, Conquerors of Rumplestiltskin and The Queen of Hearts and the Wicked Witch, King Arthur and Peter Pan and Lord Hades, not to mention being the mothers of the _Author_ , and… and….

Mary Margaret shuddered minutely. Truly, they could rule the world, and far beyond, anytime they wanted, and _No One_ could stop them. Their power combined was unfathomable, proven by the miracle of life residing in Regina today. A part of her had known since Christmas Day, but… seeing them interact so normally, so _human_ , made her realize that now, and forevermore, they were most certainly _not_.

“Thank you for not killing me,” she suddenly blurted, and they both stopped and focused on her again.

“For not teaching her how to set a bed properly?” Regina chuckled, while Emma stayed ominously silent. “I don’t think that would’ve broken the camel’s back, per se.”

“I’m not stupid. I know you’ve had plenty of chances in the past to kill me, without a second thought. You might’ve never truly wanted to. You may have only wanted to make me suffer, and I promise you, you caused me the most pain I’ve ever experienced in my life, and it could never amount to the suffering I’ve caused you.” She took a breath, steeling her nerves, and even Regina began to get worried. “You forgave me, a-and David. What about… Cora…?” She gave them both a pleading look, hoping she wasn’t out of line.

“I may never forgive my mother,” the former Queen admitted in a quick breath, surprising the Mayor. “I don’t like my mother. I _hate_ her. I hate her with more intensity than I’ve ever hated you on some days. But I _do_ love her, in some twisted way. She set me on the path that led me here, she wasn’t lying about that, though she bragged pointlessly about it. Cora will always be my mother, but… we will deal with her in time.”

Emma nodded soberly. “On your list of sins we presented to you a month ago, you might have noticed your latest one omitted: the attempt at my mother-in-law – through my wife’s hands, no less. It led to a heated debate. In the end, we both agreed that _you_ shouldn’t be the one that kills her. She’ll have her moment, and we’ll decide that moment.”

“But how did you stop her from killing Rumple?”

“We told her to stop, obviously; you handed me her heart, remember? And she handed me the dagger, while Emma kept her heart. If anything happened to one of us, the other could find the solution easy enough. Especially after the dagger changed hands _officially_.”

Something suddenly occurred to Snow White – something she had never even considered asking about. “Oh! Your dagger!”

“Off-world. A galaxy far, far away. In the deepest trenches of the unknown seas. Narnia.”

“Or, under the mattress.” Emma shrugged. “Really, depends on how I feel. You’ll see it one day. We’re having copies made.”

“Wait… why?”

“Decoys. It’s funny; I can still hear when someone calls for me, I just don’t have to obey that call. So, if someone calls me with a fake, I can punish accordingly.” She chuckled. “It’s not a coincidence that you’ve never asked about the dagger, didn’t even think about it, until we brought it up. The best way to hide a weapon is to make it difficult to remember that there is one. That’s the first layer of security, and the decoys are the second layer. Only my wife and I will ever know the location. Not Henry, not our future children, not Ruby, Lily, Tink, or anyone else. I trust them with my life, but paranoia comes with the job, and anyone could do _anything_ for a high enough price, or cost. Past experiences of other Dark Ones tell me that I shouldn’t tell _anyone at all_ , but I refuse to be a slave to the power. I’ve gone without trusting anyone long enough. If she wants to kill me one day, I probably deserve it anyway.”

Really, it was an incredibly sweet gesture, nearly as sweet as surrendering your own heart, as Emma had also done _decades_ ago, apparently. It would have been a romantic thing to do on Valentine’s day, but she wasn’t sure how David would react to her beating heart wrapped in a bow.

Regina, however, didn’t look swayed in the least by the act, still caught on her earlier admission. “Future _children_?”

“We’re _immortal_ , babe. Do you wish to stop at two?”

“I… I hadn’t c-considered that.” She gave her a suspicious look. “No twins, right?”

“I promised you no spoilers, unless it’s life-threatening. I’m sticking to that.”

“Not preparing for the size of my stomach in the coming months will be quite life threatening for you, darling.”

The blonde hummed lightly. “One child. This time.”

“…”

“I haven’t seen that far ahead, so I’m guessing. _Hey_ , let’s talk about **Neal**.” She suddenly clapped her hands, and Snow gulped. “Ready to talk about it, _mom_?”

“I… do I have to?” She was dreading this moment. She was more than dreading it, she was _terrified_ of this moment, and she was honestly surprised it wasn’t one of the primary things that Emma had brought up, since Christmas. The way that Emma had taunted her with her decisions throughout the years, she would have thought _that_ the very first argument on her agenda.

She was grateful for the time, though. It gave her the opportunity to brace herself for Emma’s inevitable response. This was an argument that she was prepared to win. Didn’t mean she wasn’t worried about the _results_ of her stubbornness.

“I’m not gonna hold it against the child,” Emma promised, giving Mary Margaret little comfort, “but I seriously hate that name. I don’t want to be a big-headed power-hungry bitch, but altering a few memories and forging a new birth certificate would only take a few seconds.” She blinked innocently, smiling as if she was only telling her that she found a good sale at _Chíc Mōníc_. “Just pick one out.”

“But why? There’s nothing wrong with the name Kenan!”

“Mary Margaret, we both know from whom the name was inspired! He abandoned me in a prison, with a baby and a shitty car, even _then_. He is _not_ a hero, and this is _not_ a conversation worth having.”

“But little Ralph is already used to the name, you can’t – you can’t just change it like that!”

Regina snorted. “Can she, Mary Margaret? Can she not?”

“B-but… wouldn’t that mess up his head? Steven’s too young for such a shift in memory.”

Emma shrugged again, and Snow had no idea why Regina found all of this so amusing. “Maybe try different names, Mom. Test it on your tongue, and maybe one will stick. It’s not like you looked at the baby and decided his name right then. You doomed him with a predetermined name, and you’re just gonna give him an identity crisis, especially when I tell him how fucking great the original was. Let the past _die_.”

“Emma, you’re asking for too much. I can’t just change Kylo’s name. It’s not that simple.”

“I don’t know; I think you might find it easier than you think.”

Regina hid her face in her blonde partner’s hair, and visibly shook.

Snow crossed her arms, leaning back from the desk. “And I suppose you won’t let me name _your_ baby, though? But you’ll be there to name my next child?”

“Firstly – Regina named the first kid, I get to name the next one – and Snow, I don’t care what name you give my next sibling, as long as it’s not offensive – like a cradle-robbing rapist, or something. You could even name him after one of the dwarves, they’d love to have another friend! If you have a girl, I know you plan on naming her Eva, and that’s okay. Cora might have a problem with it, and you should _never_ let her babysit, but it’s still okay with me. But as your _daughter_ , you _absolutely_ should’ve come to me _first_ when you named him after my _Ex_.”

Snow White remembered the day her son was born. It should’ve been the happiest day of her life. From her hospital bed, she had presented the child to her family, David by her side, and it was ramping up to be one of the happiest – no, _the happiest day_ of her life.

Instead, she would remember it as the last day Emma talked to her for over a year.

Stubborn as they both were, Emma refused to talk to her about it, and Mary Margaret refused to change it, repudiating such things about the recently passed man she was already beginning to see as her son-in-law, her hard stance on the unflinching view of family and supposed true love blinding her.

No, she couldn’t. She couldn’t do that to her son, her loved ones.

Her baby, William “Billy” Charming, would grow to be _proud_ of his namesake, and while she was sincerely sorry, not even her daughter could change that. It was something she just had to accept.

“I’m sorry, Emma.”

“I’m sorry, too, Mom. Sometimes, I don’t know why I even bother.”

“I…” she still didn’t like to hear the disappointment in her only daughter’s voice. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“No need. I get it. Sometimes a name just comes naturally, and it can’t be changed. It’s silly of me to ask. Guess all the power’s going to my head. Hey,” she slowly stood, bringing her wife up with her, and reached over to rest her hand on her mother’s. “Don’t worry about it. And tell David and Billy we said hey. Might not see you for a few days, we’ve got some rounds to make before we can settle for the baby.”

Mary Margaret still showed concern, but she let it go. “Take care, you two.”

“Of course. We’ll talk about the pardoning ceremony when we make a date for the baby announcement.”

“And the announcement of everything else, considering.” Regina perked up, grinning hauntingly, in a way that Snow was grateful that it wasn’t directed towards her.

Emma gave her wife a soft smile. “Do you think we’re ready for that?”

“Unless there’s some special way you can make me _more_ ready.”

“I would _never_ do that to you,” she swore vehemently, her voice an octave deeper, and Snow White didn’t even consider it an odd statement, reaching for the nearest stack of papers. The blonde cleared her throat. “I’m… sorry for the intrusion, we’ll let you get back to work.”

“Anytime,” the mayor smiled toothily, and a graceful swirl of white took the couple away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“You didn’t even consult me on whether or not you were going to name my little brother after my ex. That’s like me naming my kid fucking Frankenstein.”  
>  – Future Awards Winner, The Story of Emmalina, Ch. 2_  
> (Over 150,000 words of fluff, humor and unabated pure revisionist history SwanQueen. I’ll even shout you out over here if you leave a review over there!)
> 
> So, you may be wondering… This is hella AU. What’s up? We hear you, and we’re getting there. Together. We’re building to something pretty cool, and definitely overdone.
> 
> Special Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: Isaiah Flamez, Aaron Leach, Swanqueen7, baratta.jennifer, carmelaphrodite2014, immortal7, bspooky3, Sfa_18, Sammii16, GreyDomo87, and FourOfTen.  
> I read all of my reviews, and if they come with a question, I will happily answer them. I very much look forward to seeing what you think of the story (so far)!
> 
> Next Chapter Teaser:  
> “What? Billy’s a good name. It was either that, or Lyle.”


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